


Unfit

by Kyradem



Series: Unfit [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Other, World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyradem/pseuds/Kyradem
Summary: Hi there!I've been playing Wold of Warcraft since The Burning Crusade. I've always wanted to write a story about my lovely warrior.So I did:)I've had this story in the back of my head for...well, many years now. Too many. So I decided to give it a go. I might have some typos and mistakes (sorry for that), since english is not my first language.The story takes place around the end of The Burning Crusade. It follows Kyra Moongaze, a famed Night Elf warrior through her journey after her return from Outland. Haunted by her choices, memories and battling her own demons, she finds an unexpected ally.P.S. Sorry for typos/mistakes, English is not my native language.Hope you enjoy it!
Relationships: Female Night Elf | Elves/Male Troll(s) (Warcraft)
Series: Unfit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827220
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

1

"You..."  
The metallic voice echoed eerily through the blurry stone walls...The sound of it was somewhat familiar , but she could not remember where she heard it. She frowned. What was it? Was it something from her past? Her head was spinning, making the word she heard reverberate painfully.  
Orders...Yes. She could remember that. That voice used to give orders. Yes. And she recalled...hating it? Hate. Yes. That was it... But was it real? She groaned and tried to push the sound away, slowly shaking her head. The noise slowly subsided, but it did not go away. She frowned again. A light buzz was humming in her temples like an eerie echo, covering her forehead with a thin layer of sweat.  
The sound of it vaguely reminded her of melted steel. A weird, sneaky stream of melted steel that no matter how hard she was trying to ignore was crawling it's way in her brain, burning her skin. And every word cut mercilessly through her ears, wounds, to the very core of her soul, making her head spin, her breath shallow.  
Eyes were watching her, she could tell. The scattered looks sent invisible shivers down her spine, making her stomach clench painfully. She did not want to be here. She did not like this place, she dreaded this feeling, this pain and the struggle that came with it.  
Was it all...real?  
"You are not worthy of calling yourself a night elf, worm… "  
Oh it was real, alright.  
The words were slowly washing over her, like the heavy flow of cold, rapid rain...  
And in an instant she knew. She remembered. She silently cursed under her breath, and shook her head again. Pain...Hate..Anger...Frustration...She started to feel agony gradually settle itself in her every pore. In a matter of seconds she felt again every blow she took, every hit, every wound and every drop of blood she lost. She groaned in frustration.  
Through the blur she could distinguish Maiev's disgusted look, her frame crouching next to her slowly, casting a long shadow as she was inspecting the damage she caused . She seemed pleased. Even though Maiev's face was covered by a helm, through the small opening Kyra could swear the warden was smirking.  
"Everything you have done good so far equals nothing." she whispered to the beaten elf, slowly taking her time to emphasize every word. "You will be forgotten. You will die alone, hated by every living creature on Azeroth. And in your final moments, you will be filled by regret and not even the sweet caress of death will bring you relief. And that fate, sister, is worse than dying"  
A sharp, unexpected pain in her left cheek made Kyra scream. Maiev moved so fast, it didn’t leave time for her to prepare for the blow. It felt like molten lava and frost bite at the same time, biting at her flesh, and she gasped for air. She instinctively brought one hand to her cheek. She whimpered. A gushing wound was covering half of her face. Blood was pouring in her mouth and throat, chocking her. She raised her silver hooded eyes at the warden, and with a surprised gasp covered her face with her right hand. She barely got time to shield herself, as a second blow landed. It carved mercilessly in one quick motion from her elbow to her palm, through layers of skin, up to the bone. A guttural, unnatural, pained scream erupted from her lung. She tried to cover her wounds, but it felt like blood was pouring, warm and sticky from every inch of her body. To her horror, she could not move .Fear crawled its way in her soul, and her body started twitching and convulsing on it's own. It began to shake beyond her control and she gave up, collapsing on the floor.  
She tried to rise up, using the support of her shaking hand. It was painful and she gritted her teeth, hissing. Then she froze. She blinked twice and slowly turned her gaze to her left. The mist in her vision could not hide the fact that a pool of blood was slowly forming underneath her, drops falling from her shaking frame, sinking in to the stones below. In that second, and invisible weight pushed at her chest , blocking her lungs. It felt like her heart stopped beating. She gasped for air, but breathing hurt . She inhaled again, and to her horror the natural act of breathing felt impossible now. She started to panic and collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.  
For a split second silence was all that existed. Then her wheezing sounds filled the quiet .The air was slowly making it's way in to her body in erratic spasms. Pain was everywhere. Her right arm was a limp, useless extension, laying underneath her, crimson liquid covering it. She looked down, gritting her teeth, desperately trying to get up once more, using her left arm. But her efforts failed, and she collapsed again, her forehead kissing painfully the stones with a crack. A pained, tired cry escaped her lips, and she gave up. She lay there, motionless, inhaling big gulps of air, dust from the floor filling her lungs. She wanted to cough, but her body did not have the strength to do so. Silence descended upon them, disrupted only by Kyra's hoarse breathing.  
"Why... why don't you kill me?.." Kyra whispered, turning her gaze toward the warden. The words she muttered brought new pain, and a new stream of blood trickled down her chin. She coughed, spitting blood. She closed her eyes.  
No response. The looming shadow of Maiev was still over her shacking frame. And that alone was enough to make her keep her eyes shut.  
"You don't deserve to die." Maiev added calmly.  
Kyra's heart skipped a beat. The shadow slowly departed, plated boots clacking on the stone floor as their wearer casually walked away. The warden stopped suddenly, making Kyra's breath hold for a split second. But Maiev only took a glance at her own blade, raising it to her eye level. She frowned at the bloody glaive, and in one move, sheathed the smeared weapon, her loud footsteps fading slowly.  
In this very moment Kyra wanted to cry. Never in her life did she wanted to cry more than now. She frowned. But the tears never came. Her heart felt empty, void. And slowly, but surely, shame crawled in there, filling the nothingness...Guilt...Humiliation...Regret...And that feeling hurt more than her open wounds.  
She opened her eyes. She turned her gaze towards the green sky, the dim light hurt. The fel swirled slowly above, small lightning curves breaking the darkness from time to time. She smiled. The disgusting green sky seemed almost beautiful now.  
Again she heard the strange buzz in her ears, the high pitched sound making her frown. She slowly turned her head towards the corpses and the leftover army of various races scattered atop of the Black Temple. She could not distinguish clearly the silhouettes, the shapeless shadows laying motionless on the cold floor. Some shapes were running around and she assumed they were tending to the dead and wounded. They were her friends, weren't they?  
To her horror she felt nothing. The pain from her cheek was starting to make itself known even more now, as the initial shock started to subside. Deep down she knew allready. Her death was near. And it made her angry that she could not remember anyone that she held dear in these last moments. Was there anyone to remember? She exhaled loudly.  
She heard fast steps approaching her, some were shouting her name, fear and anger in their voices. But she was barely hearing them now. Her body felt like cotton candy. Blood was slowly getting in to her left eye and traitorously trickling towards her ears, neck and chest.  
"Useless...Just like all this blood spilled on the floor..." she thought, and closed her eyes. A feeling of weightlessness and nausea overwhelmed her, and for a second she had the feeling that someone had scooped her in it's arms and was now running. Her head started spinning ...Everything went black. It felt like a great fall at a enormous speed, an uncontrollably drop without an end...Is this what death feels like?

**************************************************************

Kyra woke up in her bed, covered in sweat. She felt her throat dusty and coarse. Her breathing was rapid, shallow, making her whole body shake. Her hands reached to her throat, covering it from something, and a desperate cry escaped her lips as she realized she had no idea what was she afraid of. She found the blanket and covered herself in a quick motion, like the fabric had some protective magic powers. To her horror, she did not remember where she was , her eyes darting from side to side in search for an answer, scared whimpers escaping her lips, filling the silence of the room.  
Water...She needed water... A small flickering light from a candle at her right was caressing the shape of a flask filled with water, laying peacefully on the floor. She quickly reached for it, but her hands didn’t listened to her as she was getting more and more agitated, her heart racing faster, and she knocked over the candle , hot wax splashing onto her right wrist. That startled her and she jumped on her feet, only to fall on her knees in surprise at the sudden weakness in her limbs. quivering, not in control of her mind or body. She quickly grabbed the still warm candle in her hand, prepared to throw it at the invisible enemies, if they dared to show themselves.  
Only to find no one around her. To her shock, the room was quiet, the moon rays gently caressing her bed, her furniture and her shaking frame. She tried to see any movement, but to no avail. Was she safe? Was that an illusion? A trick? The confusion made her arms weak and she threw the useless candle with a scream at the darkness.  
Then, she remembered. The realization shook her every thought, like lighting.  
"Darnassus...I am in Darnassus...Azeroth..."  
Though she could still hear each of her breaths, rasping, hurting her throat, she tried to speak out loud, to fill the overwhelming silence, surrounding her shaking frame.  
"Deep breaths…It was all a dream. You are safe. You are safe…It was not your fault "she calmed herself, with her hands checking her limbs.  
After what seemed like an eternity, with hands and legs still feeling gummy, using the support of her bed, she rose onto her feet. Her eyes, used with the darkness spotted what she was looking for before. The flask with water was on the nightstand, smeared with wax. Kyra brought the container to her lips and gulped so fast that she nearly chocked and it made her cough. She sat on the bed, and tried to breathe slowly to calm her cough. She shook her head.  
Every night and day she begged Elune for the nightmares to stop. Every time Elune was punishing her in response.  
She extended her hand in front of her. It was shaking. She closed her palm and formed a fist, nails digging in to her skin painfully. That's how she knew she was awake.  
It was still early for her shift, but she could not sleep any longer. She was not used to sleep at night, because her mind was so active. So she decided to get to her post. The walking would refresh her thoughts, would make her regain control.  
She slowly got up, and went to the closet to get her armor. She opened the door, and glanced at her uniform, smiling.  
Plate shinned beautifully in moonlight. A well crafted chestpiece, adorned with symbols of protection was on display .Legplates matched the chestpiece both in craftsmanship and power. And then there was the faceguard. Oh, the dreadful, awfully itchy faceguard. How she hated that thing. It was an all right reminder of her disfigured appearance. Of her failure and loneliness. Of her incapacity to protect and live up to her family name. She opened the second door of her closet to reveal a mirror. Kyra looked at herself with a neutral expression, like she was meeting a stranger. She was tall, for most races, but average for her own. Her white, long locks were flowing over her broad shoulders and muscular arms, contrasting with her pale blue skin. Her legs were strong and firm, her chest was small, preserving the feminine looks still. She was considered a bit skinny for a Night Elf but where she lacked in muscle, she compensated with agility and a very good instinct. She forgot how she looked before she got her scar. She got used of seeing this white with brown undertones line that connected her right eyebrow with the upper lip, curling her mouth in a subtle snarl. Luckily, Maiev missed her eye. Or maybe the whole purpose was to let her live with the scar, to be able to see with both eyes – Kyra Moongaze, the traitor and failure of Darnassus. She puffed and gritted her teeth at her own image in disgust. With one final disgusted look at her reflection, shaking her head, resisted the urge to punch and shatter the mirror and closed the mirror door.  
She equipped her armor over her leather undergarments quickly, an action born of habit. Braided her hair tight, so it won't get in her eyes and strapped her plate faceguard on the back of her head. That way, only a small fragment of the scar was visible on her eyebrow. Luckily, the armor was crafted by an outstanding dwarf blacksmith in Ironforge, and it cost a small fortune so it allowed her to breathe and talk with ease.  
She quickly went to the lower floor, were she had her kitchen and weapon rack, grabbed some dried fruits from the cupboard and stuffed them in to her traveling bag. She opened the door to the weapon holder to get her swords.  
They were two majestic swords, with a faint yellow glow, slightly curved at the end, easy to swing but hard to parry against, showing the flawless craftsmanship of their blades. She was the only proud owner in Darnassus of a pair of shivarran blades, and despite the protocol for Sentinels to wear different weapons, she opted for those. If she was using a different faceguard, she might aswell break the rules and wear different swords. She gripped the weapon's hilts, and raised the in front of her eyes, smiling. They were the perfect extension to her hands  
The night air was cool and pleasant and she took her time to get to her post, her plate armor was jingling softly and the sound was nowhere near disturbing to hear. She was used to walk lightly, and the sound of her movements were barely audible . She almost smiled underneath her faceguard.  
All of the sudden she stopped. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a sense of dread enveloped her. She furrowed her brow. Her body got tense and her grip tightened on her blades hilt. She unsheated them with careful motions, wary not to make a sound, moving her feet slowly scouting the surroundings.  
She was being watched. There was no doubt in it.  
Kyra positioned herself steady in a battle stance, eyes darting around carefully for any movement that could betray the intruder. Now she felt it for sure. There were more than one pair of eyes watching her, but she could not tell where they were. She held her breath, carefully not to make a sound. Each second seemed to last an eternity as she was standing perfectly still, listening to the footsteps of the intruder, her long ears twitching in short motions. A rustle from behind her made her turn, and without any warning, Kyra leaped and pinned the silhouette down, knocking the air out the prowling strangers lungs, holding both blades at the enemy throat.  
"What the…"spat a familiar and annoyed voice from underneath her. "Sister Moongaze, what got in to you?!It’s me, for Elune sake!"  
Kyra looked down with anger, and at the sight of the young Sentinel, her gaze turned to surprise. It was Alyre Starbreeze, the guard she was suppose to replace. The young girl looked equally scared and shocked, her helmet laying next to her, being knocked off on impact, her green hair covering half of her face and looking like a tangled mess of vines.  
" Oh...It's you" Kyra muttered in confusion and quickly rose to her feet, holding an outstretched hand to help the other woman to get up. "I had this feeling I was being watched, and I didn’t know where from… "  
" Well, do you have it now?" Starbreeze rose with effort, holding both hands on her lower back, as it seemed to hurt her, but not before she refused the helping hand, and tried to put her helmet back on.  
"What?"Kyra asked confused  
"The feeling…that you are being watched? Do you have it now?"  
“No…strangely I don’t…It’s gone…Am I... going mad?”Kyra thought to herself, the idea itself making her doubt her sanity, and she shook her head.  
"I...don't think so... You should never sneak up on me like that"she added with a cold stare.  
"Then that was my fault, I am sorry for startling you…You've stated before that we should not try and scare you...because, you know..." the elf's voice getting weaker as she sensed the awkwardness of the phrase, her gaze descending slowly to her feet.  
" Speaking of which...", Kyra interrupted the green haired elf's , examining her with hooded eyes "Why aren’t you at your post?"  
Alyre blushed, her lavender skin getting purple. She watched her boots as she spoke, to embarrassed to look the white haired woman in the eyes again.  
"I needed to…relive myself, pardon my language…And I couldn’t hold it much longer. Besides, no one could see me now, because the commander was not there, so no harm done…Well…"she looked up to Kyra, a shy smile on her face.  
Her phrase got stuck in her throat and her smile froze, when she met the silver eyes that were staring icily at her. Kyra felt her anger building up in her chest, and she clenched her jaw. With her right hand she yanked Alyre's wrist so hard, that the scared girl was almost swept off her feet, her knuckles turning white. Her helmet fell down once more, hitting the ground with a shot metallic sound. She brought the terrified night elf to the level of her face, narrowing her gaze.  
"Abandoning you post because no one could see you?”Kyra emphasized the last words with disgust. "What if demons are at the gate? What if the Horde gets in the city? So many "what if's" that right now I am pondering between punching you in the face or killing you for treason. " She felt Alyre shaking in her grip, and she added: "No matter what happens, no matter how bad you want to go or whatever, you don’t leave! " Kyra's eyes narrowed " Do.You. Understand?!"  
Alyre's skin turned pale and she shook her head terrified. He small hand tried to get a hold of Kyra's grip, but to no avail. Her eyes had fear engraved in them. She knew very well Kyra’s anger, everybody knew her temper. And to fall under her rage, well, that was either stupidity or bad luck.  
"Get out of my sight!And pray to Elune I won't see you again today..." Kyra said in a low voice. "You will report about that to your superior by tomorrow, or I'll do it for you! And I can guarantee you won't like it, if I'll do it!  
"Yes…"the green haired woman muttered as her wrist was being released"…I’m sorry!" She whispered, and without looking at her superior she grabbed the helmet off the ground, stumbling, her frame shaking.  
"Go.Home" Kyra spat at the terrified green haired woman.  
Alyre's eyes pooled with tears, she quickly bowed her head, turned on her heels and started running towards her home.  
“Stupid kid…” Kyra thought to herself as she was directing her fast steps towards Darnassus portal. “Good thing they are still guards outside the portal…”  
She positioned herself in front of the red entryway, greeting the other tired Sentinel with a short nod, but not before scouting around for anything that could confirm what she was feeling earlier. Was she going mad? Paranoid? Or something was really amiss? She found nothing.  
The night was peaceful, they city was quiet. Darnassian people adapted to Azeroth's demand of being more active at day time, still preserving their tradition. Some merchants were closing their shops, others were opening theirs. The moon was pale and round, pouring graciously her silver rays all over the terrain. The lake was mirroring the glittering stars, and a soft wind was caressing it's surface. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, a soft smile spreading on her face. There was nothing threatening in her sights.  
Kyra shook her head. No, it was all a repercussion of her nightmares, lack of sleep and that stupid kid that seems to never get things right. Soon the sun will be up. Oh, Elune…How she hated day time.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************


	2. Chapter 2

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The city crowd seemed to have a life of its own. The city was filled with various Azerothian races, adventurers and merchants for whom day time was their most active period. It was crowded and loud, and every five minutes some lost youngling looking for trades or easy jobs was asking Kyra or other guards for directions. The protocol demanded them to greet every one of them, as this was boosting the city economy and manpower. But the greetings and farewells were said without any desire or heart to it.

Kyra was trying to explain to a lost gnome that the boats were outside, and you have to got back though the portal, take a boat to Menethil Harbor...when she saw from a far a young Sentinel, clad in armor, seemingly out of breath from running, approaching her.

"Kyra Moongaze!"the woman said trying to catch her breath, holding her rib cage with her hands, like it was falling apart.

"Yes. How may I help, sister?"Kyra asked coldly

"Mistress Tyrande wishes to see you. She says it’s urgent. I will replace you for the time being" the one in hurry said in a low voice as not to be heard and bowed her head.

"Very well" Kyra voiced confused."Thank you! I’ll be on my way", she took one step, stopped and turned to the other elf with a cold stare."Please, do some running sometimes. With a short breath like that, you will be the first to die if someone attacked our city. And for all that is sacred, don’t leave your post! "she said in a ironic low tone.

"I am sorry, I am bit out of shape. And I will not leave the post, for the life of me, sister"…mumbled the apparent scared Sentinel.

Kyra bid farewell to the confused gnome, and went towards the Temple of the Moon, well aware of the Sentinel's angry and scolding gaze on the back of her head. She could bet that one would kill her, if given the chance.

The Temple was the city’s pride. Grand in architecture, with columns reaching toward sky, there was something about this construction that spread peace and calmness. The prayers were sung all day long and were enveloping the place in a mesmerizing, magnetic aura. 

By all means, she avoided that place . Too many memories were engraved in every stone of the grand construction. Every time she entered the place of worship, a feeling of misery washed over her. She hated that sensation and every time when trying to get away from it, rage took it’s place. Even if now she chose the path of a warrior, the light was still toying with her mind and tickling her veins, making it’s presence known from time to time, playing with her patience. And the immense structure planted in city center was a monolith of memories. No matter how hard she tried to forget.

She ran up the staircase inside the temple. The glowing statue, the singing, the oh so familiar smell made Kyra _nauseous_ _._ The fragrance of incense was heavy and the sound of chimes could be heard in the distance. She fought the overwhelming sensation and made her way to Tyrande’s usual place. Up there, on the balcony she saw the High Priestess surrounded by her kin and some others.

Despite their reciprocated animosity, Kyra admitted to herself that Tyrande was indeed magnetic as a presence. Tall, well clad, with firm gestures and carefully chosen words, stubborn and quite intelligent, despite her hot headed decisions – all that and more made her a leader. A leader that her people were willing to die for. A that was something worthy of respect.

Tyrande was surrounded by three rogues, two priestesses and what appeared to be four Sentinels. One o them was Shandris with whom the High Priestess was arguing about something in low voice. When Kyra cleared her throat, and bowed her head, the conversation stopped. All eyes turned towards her. They all had different looks on their faces. The rogues were watching at her in admiration, the Sentinels – in fear, and the Priestesses in utter and unmasked disgust. The nausea that she felt before, turned to rage. She simply smirked at them, and locked her eyes with Tyrande.

"Oh, good, you are here Moongaze," Tyrande said in a low voice that sounded alarmed and uneasy but sure, nonetheless. "You will accompany me, along with your Sisters, we have important matters to attend. I could’ve gone alone, but Shandris insists I bring some others with me…"she said it ironically, gazing to the Sentinel.

"This is not up to debate, High Priestess. You cannot go alone." Shandris said in a tiny, but firm voice, and bowed her head. Every word she spoke to the high priestess, even in disagreement, was filled with respect.

" This is an undercover mission " Tyrande shushed Shandris" I’ve got something, that I must investigate. There have been reports of some…unusual activity at Ashenvale border. "the priestess continued, her gaze steady. "We need to make sure that we eliminate the threat once and for all from these lands "

" What do you mean, High Priestess?"Kyra asked

" Well, I am sorry but that is all you should know for now, Moongaze" Tyrande retorted, gazing through her narrowed eyelids. "Consider this a test. I am still not sure where your allegiances lay. While I cannot deny your exceptional skills in battle, this kind of sensitive information I will share only with Shandris. "

Her words hit Kyra's chest like a dull knife. Of course she didn’t trust her. She withstood the urge to plant her boot in the High Priestesses face with a pained expression. Tyrande’s eyes were watching her carefully as if the priestess was reading her mind, waiting for a tiny slip in her behavior. Instead of doing something that she will regret later, Kyra suppressed her defiant instinct, clenched her jaw and bowed her head again.

"I can understand that, Mistress." she said coldly. 

"Good" Tyrande smiled. "All you need to know is that no one should find out that I’m gone, and no one should see you leaving. We’ve already caused a bit of commotion with you being here giving the fact that everyone knows or thinks you despise this place"

"With all due respect, High Priestess, I don’t know why you summoned me then…"Kyra hissed though her teeth

"Because we will need your… Tyrande paused for a moment … expertise where we are going. No one here has that. That being said, get your bags ready, rations will be provided. We leave at sunset. "

"Yes, High priestess"Kyra bowed her head again and with a swift turn she stormed out of their sight.

"I still don’t trust her, Shandris…We have to be careful" Tyrande sighed watching Kyra leave

"Don’t worry, High Priestess" Shandris turned her head towards the priestess. "If anything happens, I will be the one cutting her throat open"

Kyra ran out as fast as she could, jumping two steps at at time, kicking peebles in her way and cursing under her breath,”Who the hell she thinks she is?! She should have let me die there, not pretend to welcome me and then question my loyalities…This is torture beyond words. Having no one, nothing but an empty house. After all I did…After all my parents and brothers did” she was so lost in thoughts that she was surprised when she hit head first with a mass of green hair.

"Ouch…Watch where you're going..."

Alyre landed on her behind with a pained and sad look on her face. Scrambling to get the helmet that fell off again, a wave of terror spread across her face when she met the furious warrior gaze.

" Not again...I am sorry…Sister Moongaze…I was not looking!"

"Shut up!"hissed Kyra. "How come every time I find you when I am mad, or you are the one that makes me mad. Are you following me for that sole purpose?!"

"I am not…follow…follow…ing …you…"I am sorry..."the green haired woman mumbled, almost crying.

"Get up, compose yourself! "commanded Kyra in a mocking voice. "I hope, for your own well being that we don’t meet again today!"She took a deep breath covering her face with her palm."Don’t talk, don’t say anything, just please go away!"

"I am sorry, but I was summoned by Mistress Tyrande herself…An urgent…That’s why…"said the scared Night Elf scrambling to get herself up the ground." I was thinking..."

"Did I stutter?!"

Alyre’s eyes went wide with horror, she quickly rose herself to her feet and ran towards the Temple like there was no tomorrow, sending dust clouds behind .

Kyra smiled while contemplating the scared young Sentinel that seemed almost weightless in her run, and went back to follow the road that led to her home, much more calmer than when she exited the Temple.

She almost felt sorry for Alyre. She was a hard working child. Much more younger than her, but much more enthusiastic than she was. Kyra took care of her most of the time, she was the one that trained her into the ways of Sentinels. But the kid was cloud headed and never seemed to follow and order without getting distracted. Either coming late to her training sessions or loosing her weapons all together. So she got scolded from time to time by her older counterpart. But they were scared of her. All of them. The name Kyra Moongaze was drawing angry and terrified looks in Darnassus. So she decided to give them a reason to be scared. Every mistake that they did on the duty was not forgiven by her. She choose this as her refuge, as her oasis of calmness. She regreted her admonishing them way to harsh many times. But at the same time, Kyra knew if she would grow soft, they would wipe their feet off her. So she tried to meet their expectations. She was treating them as they imagined she would: cruel and remorseless. After all, she had nothing left to lose.

Kyra got home and kicked her boots as soon as she entered the kitchen. Her shift was over for today, so her top priority was the preparations for tonight misterious journey. The thought of it made her feel uneasy. While she was getting up the stairs to her bedroom, unlacing her armor her mind was racing, deep in thought. “Tyrande said my expertise was needed…Demons?” While all over Azeroth were rumors of a possible undead invasion, reports of a new plague from the scouts and spies, it sounded very strange that demons would roam these lands also. More importantly, they took care of the demonic incursion upon Azeroth, with the cost of countless lives by deploying armies in Outland... But on the other hand, it was only normal for Tyrande to get nervous at the thought of it, given all that her people have suffered by the hands of those invaders. Still, something was not lining up. Why did she called upon a youngling like Alyre? She was ambitious, of course, but not so skilled in battle. Were the Night Elves so desperate or did Tyrande lost her mind?

By the time her trail of thoughts was done, she was laying in bed, with her cloth undergarments on, armor in the closet, chewing on a dry fruit she packed this morning. She decided to lay down for a bit, to get some rest, for only Elune knew what was in store for her on that journey.

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1.2

Voices. Languages. One distinct thick accent. A guttural, harsh sounding one. A melodic voice, like a Naru song. Whimpers, cries everywhere. She opened her eyes with great effort, feeling her eyelids heavy and sticky . Laying on her back, she tried to take in the surroundings. The sky above her was green with a slight tint of blue, she could sense the smell of cooked ravager meat, the Naaru song was invading her mind…” _Shattrah...What ? Why am I here?...”_ Kyra didn’t seem to recall the past events, as her mind seemed to be clouded with a dense fog. She turned her head to the side, in hope of seeing some familiar faces, some answers, but her neck did not listen. She brought her hands to her face, only to feel the gash that was there. A pained cry escaped her. Her face was hurting. She tried to stand up but an agonizing pain shout through her entire body and a grunt escaped her lungs involutarely, making her curl in to a ball. She tried to hold herself not to scream, but the pain in her torso made it impossible. A thin layer of sweat was forming over her body and she started gasping for breath. Trying to compose herself, feeling every bone and muscle in her body useless, she shifted her position, laying onto her back. The pain from her chest was so intense that a loud, rythmic thud in her ears was covering the Naaru song. She closed her eyes shut, trying to get some some rest .

Then all came back to her. Memories like a merciless cascade of nightmares and horrific images. " _They are dead...all of them...My fault..."_ Her head started pounding, shaking breath intensifying, fear and terror taking over her body and mind. She started screaming in agony, unable to control the overwhelming sensation. The pain was now more than a physical discomfort, it was taking her entire being into oblivion. She tried to move, the torment of her broken bones pairing with the echo of past events, made her screams louder and the desperation of her inability to control herself terrified her even more.

Someone fast steps were approaching. A tall blue figure crouched next to her, and a three finger hand touched her forehead. A low voice, in broken common, rumbled like a thunderstorm above her.

"This one be needing healing, woman."

The voice made her shiver, and she tried to push away whoever was there, unable to restrain herself, too scared to open her eyes. At the sound, a much smaller and leaner figure than the first one approached. She could hear fast, light steps coming towards her. A soft, pleasant scent was emanating from the woman, something with peacebloom that reminded of home…” _Home?”_ Kyra thought _”No…no!”_ With her eyes wide open she started screaming again.

"Thank you, rogue", a soft voice said, her gaze falling upon Kyra’s mauled body. She placed a soothing small hand on her forehead. "There…there…You poor thing…"A warm sensation enveloped Kyra, calming her for a brief moment, giving her the courage to look the priestess in the eyes.

The night elf looked to the woman, her breath calming, her shiver subsiding. Something made her feel safe.”Safe… "she mumbled "I can’t stay here…I have to…No…Please...let me go..”

"Easy...We will get you in shape first, warrior…"

Warm hands were then placed above her chest and a glowing light emanated from them. The light was comforting, but at the same time it felt like a thousand small needles pinched her skin. Kyra groaned and tried to sit up, the pain was unbearable

"Lay down, lay down, sweetie. I am tired enough, I can’t hold you, please" the woman said, desperation in her voice becoming more and more audible.

Kyra turned her gaze at the human priest. Small beads of sweat forming on the healer’s forehead. She was trying to put her body back…

” _Useless”_ the Night elf thought. She looked at the woman and with a shaky hand grabbed her wrist, stopping the flow of light. The human looked at her surprised and somewhat annoyed.

" It hurts?" She asked innocently.

"Just kill me, I am begging you…"Kyra said in a raspy voice, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Please, priestess…Have mercy on me."

The healer's expression changed. From a warm gaze, her look turned to a cold stare. Her mouth formed a thin line, and her eyebrows furrowed. She released her wrist from Kyra 's grasp with surprising strength and pushed her down on the bed, pinning her in place on the dirty covers by her shoulders.

"Rogue, come here! "Her voice sounded firm and steady, as opposed to the desperation from before

The blue troll from earlier got up from somewhere on the left side and walked towards the priestess, a puzzled look on his face, his confused stare peering over the Night Elf’s scarred face. In his red eyes she saw pity. And she was the source of that kind of look.

"Hold this warrior still" the human priestess commanded.

Kyra screamed in protest, and tried to run away, only to find herself unable to move. Two huge blue arms were wrapped around her, blocking her from any move, feet in the air. He was not trying to injure her or to make her wounds worse, his grip was meant to keep her steady, as it was what the priestess asked. It didn’t hurt, but it made her unable to move. She tried kicking him with her legs, but her limbs did not respond. While she squirmed, she came face to face with the blue eyed woman that was trying to put her body back. Her eyes were cold.

"Look around you, Night Elf. You are lucky to be alive. Look. Around. You." the priestess said, and Kyra could swear she saw a tear forming in the woman's eyes.

Kyra tried to look around the infirmary, fighting the tears. Only now the loud thud in her ears was starting to subside, and she could hear clearly the chaotic sounds around her.

Shattrah was filled with injured and dead champions. …all of them were screaming, crying for help, or laying motionless. The smell of rotten flesh and pussing wounds filled her nostrils. A mournful cry was echoing inside the city walls, some were cursing the Gods for the fate of the departed others were yelling desperate prayers, pleading them for help . Priests , druids, shamans, paladins of all kinds and races were attending frantically the injured, running from one to another. Here, in this place, no race existed, no faction, no Gods. Only life and death.

There were so many. Not enough healers to keep them alive. Not enough beds to hold the injured. And they kept coming. Brought in arms of their friends, dragged by their pets. Corpses on beds, on the floor, injured beyond imagination, limbs missing, eyes gauged…One draenai woman was sitting down with a human mage in her arms that had a huge wound in his abdomen, trying to hold his intestines from falling off with her bare hands, her face pale, her hands full of blood. The mage was dead. Long dead. But the draenai just stood there,waiting their turn to be healed a empty look in her eyes, her lips barely moving in a silent and useless prayer.

A shiver went down Kyra's spine and horror washed over her body, a lump forming in her throat. She left her head fall onto the troll’s chest, unable to look the horrifying scenery anymore, sobbing quietly. He still did not loosened his grip, afraid that she would run.

"You were lucky, I can heal you. That’s not the case for most of them" The priestess continued. "Mistress Tyrande ordered to heal any Night Elf that we find. I did not learned the ways of Light to kill, warrior. I learned them to bring life" the woman stated. "Hold her still, Troll. This will hurt."

A burst of light emanated from the priestess hands, stronger than before, towards the unsuspecting warrior’s body. A horrific scream burst from her throat as the pain she felt was unbearable. All her broken bones were making their way to their right place, hurting, scratching and racking at every inch of her body in process. The last thing she saw was yellow light before losing consciousness and succumbing to the darkness.

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	3. Chapter 3

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1.3

She opened her eyes wide, her frame shaking and jumped upright in her bed. Her hands were traveling unsure on her body, checking her bones, muscles. All was in the right place. The pain from her dream was slowly subsiding. She carefully brought her palms to her face. She exhaled loudly.The face had a scar, not a wound…It was… “ _A dream…It was all a dream_ ” a relieved sigh escaped her lips. But it felt so real...

She shook her head and rose to her feet to get her armor and supplies.

The sun was about to set and she was ready to depart. She hung her cloak on her shoulders, covering her face with the hood .Walking down on the path that led to the Darnassian portal, she tried to avoid the main road as to not raise suspicion, as instructed. As soon as she got out of the portal, she saw the group of three hooded Nigh Elfs by the flight master. They were way fewer than this afternoon.

"Ishnu allah, sisters" Kyra said in a hushed voice as soon as she got close to them

"Godess watch over you. Before you ask anything else, warrior, here is your ration. The others are already there and waiting on the other side" the taller one said sharply, handing Kyra a small bag. The warrior nodded and took the bag, hanging it on to her belt.

The name of the woman that spoke was Saliel Stardew. She was one of the most skilled rogues Darnassus had to offer. And judging by the look on purple haired woman’s face, she was not pleased with this mission either.

"Hopefully we return at sunrise" the male next to her said annoyed. "I had many jobs that I had to put on hold for this so called investigation…A man's gotta eat, you know..."

"Watch your tongue, rogue…You make me sick!"the third one retorted. That one was Lasena Nightsong , a gifted priestess of the Moon, one that never questioned Tyrande’s judgement, and one of those that was willing to go to the end of the earth for her. Or kill for her. Or both. So starting an argument with her was useless, and the rogue simply waved his hand and rolled his eyes, much to the priestess annoyance.

The Flight master didn’t say a word, as to guess his payment made him do so, he simply handed them four of his gryphons in complete silence.

The flight was uneventful, long and tedious. The saddle sores were all that happened on the way. Kyra tried to fall asleep, strapping her body on the saddle, but the constant wind shifts made it impossible. Besides, her head was filling with thoughts, memories that were not pleasant nor calm.

Here she was : alone with her thoughts. She simply could not shake off an unsettling feeling that was crawling his way into her thoughts, plaguing them with doubt...and something more. Something was not the way it should be but she could not put her finger on it. “ _What is it?What is wrong_?”she tried to figure it out, but no answer came to her mind.

The bird she was riding started getting restless, cawing and pulling his head back mid flight. Kyra's stomach clenched. The animals could sense danger better than people. The gryphon was agitated, which could mean her death, given the fact that they were flying above water. She gently stroke the gryphon's feathers, laying her head on his mane. "I know, I can feel it too" she spoke in a calming tone, but the bird protested. She gently caressed the gryphon's neck, until the bird relaxed, and started flying steadily, much to her relief.

Once they’ve got to the Ashenvale outpost, the birds flew back. Her bird, stayed behind , cawing at something far in the distance. Kyra smiled, and rubbed it's beak. "It's fine! I can handle myself. Go, fly!"she said and hugged the bird. The hyppogryph cawed one last time, stretched his wings, and flew after his companions. She watched the bird soar up, and her gaze followed it until it became a small dot in the distance.

She turned around, still smiling, and came face to face with one of the rogues, his expression puzzled.

"Do you...know that bird?" he asked cautiously

"No" she retorted, and quickly walked past him.

Not far from the landing point, near one of the houses, they were greeted by Tyrande and other four companions. They bowed their heads and exchanged looks. Kyra’s eyes scouted around, taking her time inspecting everyone. Shandris was there, next to Tyrande, the priest, one rogue, the Sentinels…

"Good, you are here. I see you all took your time..." Tyrande started on a low voice. Tapping her foot. "The sole reason you are here now is that Shadris got a report that stated that cultists and demons – she glanced at Kyra, much to her annoyance – are preparing to launch an attack. One of the scouts got ambushed and her body was found mauled with what appeared to be felhounds claw marks," the priestess shook her head. "Fandral reported the same about a group of druids that went missing the other night. Severed limbs were found with tainted magic still lingering above them" the Priestess took a deep breath as she was visibly disturbed."Also, we all know that cultists roam these woods, and we’ve been tolerating them for too long. So, if those two things are somehow connected we will get a bigger army, corner them and attack. To end this nonsense forever. Right now, we are a scouting party, nothing more, nothing less. We will go on foot, not to raise any more suspicion around. Try to keep your head low, investigate what you can and report to me in five hours. We will go together until the crossroad near Stonetalon Mountains . After wich we split. Shandris, Kyra, myself, Saliel and Asyliel on one side, Lasena, Alonir, Vyron, Elana and Dalia on the other. After five hours we will meet again here. Any questions?"

The group fell silent. Kyra raised her head and looked at Tyrande. The Priestess looked calm and sure of her plan. Her gaze was steady, and her frame firm. Her left eyebrow was slightly raised up. That was her stubborn expression. No one dared to question her when her eyebrow was like this.

"This is a soul crystal attuned to my life energy." Tyrande held up a string which had a glowing white stone at it's end."You will all get one." The priestess sighted." Shandris insisted on this particular protective measure, despite my protests." She shot a quick glance at green haired Sentinel, making her shake her head." When the crystal is white," the priestess continued " it means that I am alive and well, when it's yellow, I am hurt, when it's red I am badly hurt, and when it stops glowing...well..." Tyrande smiled "Let's pray to Elune we will never get to see it"

They all took one necklace with the crystal. The stone felt warm at touch, and a slight hum was emanating from it.

"Any questions?" Tyrande said calmly while tying the crystal holding string around her neck. The group was silent."Good" she smiled. "We may proceed"

Kyra felt uneasy. Something was not right, her instincts were raging, her brain tried to connect the dots that were not there. She opened her mouth, but words failed to materialize.” _Maybe this is not the entire plan.Maybe she didn’t trust me enough to share the whole plan with me, that’s why it doesn’t seem right. No one else is questioning her judgment. Again, my crazy mind is playing me…_ ”the warrior thought. Indeed, everyone seemed pleased with the plan. No one showed any sign of defiance or second thoughts.

"May Godess light our path and her wisdom guide us back in one piece!", Tyrande whispered. She made a prayer symbol above everyone’s head and murmured a blessing for their journey.

They’ve gathered their backpacks and went down the road in a very calculated order, as previously instructed.

Kyra was leading the way with the two rogues - Alonir and Vyron at her sides, as one was strong, and the others could easily blend into shadows if something was to happen. Plus, it gave Tyrande a better view over her least trusted pupil. Saliel and Dalia were flanking Tyrande, Shandris and Lasena in the middle. If anything happened to the first three, they could counterattack. And lastly, Elana and Asyliel were in the back, protecting the rear of their party.

Kyra felt angry for not knowing the entire plan, but also curious to find out the rest of it. These contrite thoughts made her frown involuntarily as she walked.

" You look grim" Alonir said in a low voice. "Do you know something we don’t about this mission?"The male spoke in a fake serious tone with a smirk on his face.

Kyra was interrupted from her thoughts, and looked surprised at the tall blue haired male that spoke. He had a smile on his face, and his eyes were looking for a response from her. He was much taller than her, had blue spiky hair and was wearing a leather armor with many pockets. She never saw so many pockets on a piece of clothing. They were everywhere: oh his chest, sides and back. She could swear he had others, well hidden from curious eyes. Why was he joking with her? His tone annoyed her. His height annoyed her. His voice annoyed her. She ignored the question, and looked in the distance.

The smile from the elf slowly faded away, but his eyes never left her face.

"I'm bored... And I would much rather talk with you than with that stinky rogue over there," he whispered pointing at Vyron.

"I can hear you, fish face, and I don’t think your jokes are a good idea. They never are", Vyron mumbled

"Alright...You are right." He rolled his eyes." And also boring..."He added and smiled, much to the other rogue's annoyance. Alonyr turned his gaze to Kyra, and gently tapped her shoulder with his finger.

"Not so grim anymore, huh?" The rogue poked her ribs with his elbow. "I can tell you are smiling under that mask."

"Don't. Touch. Me." She hissed and sharply pushed his hand away.

Her icy stare made the rogue's eyes grow wide. A murderous look was adorning her eyes and her steady gaze sent an unexpected shiver down his spine.He slowly pulled his hand back and mumbled an apology.

"I was just making...Oh, forget it...I am sorry..." Alonir's voice was almost a whisper he did not dare voicing out loud. He shook his head. This woman had something. Without doing anything, with just one stare she made his hands shaky. He slowly looked down at his sweaty palms and hid them in his poket.

"What could possible turn someone into...this?" he thought to himself and sighted.

Kyra was staring up and down the scared rogue with her fists clenched, still walking beside him, trying not to hit him...when she heard a light chuckle. She turned her gaze towards the sound and saw the other rogue with his hand covering his mouth. He was laughing. But when his eyes met hers, his smile froze. He lowered his gaze, cleared his throat and fastened his pace. She could tell he was scared too, and smiled. The young ones were so fragile.The silence made her happy. Kyra's eyes were scouting the road peacefully and her grin was covered by her faceguard.

As she kept walking, her body suddenly tensed.

"O Elune..."she froze in place. A wave of dread washed over her and she felt her legs melting. A high pitched sound in her head made her frown and her jaw dropped, as with a high speed finally the pieces were coming together.

"I said I am sorry, I didn’t mean to…"Alonir whispered

"Where is Alyre?! "She interrupted the rogue.

"Who?"Alonir said visibly confused

"Alyre, the Sentinel…I am sorry, if that is a secret, but you have to tell me! You stayed after I left this morning, right? Did u see anyone approaching Tyrande? Tell me!"

"I don’t remember…"the rogue mumbled.

"You have to!" Kyra's hand grabbed the taller elf's jaw, and brought him ant her level. "You have to..." she spelled the words slowly, tilting her head to the side.

"I don't know! I don't remember!" the rogue spat. "And trust me, I would remember. We left right after you. Including Tyrande"

Vyron dashed between the two with his jaw clenched.

"You..."

Kyra pushed the rogue away, and quickly turned on her heels.

"Stop. Here. Now!" she yelled, her eyes searching frantically for anything to confirm what she was thinking. The group stopped at her scream, drawing their weapons…at her.

"What does this mean, Moongaze?!" Shandris positioned herself in front of the priestess, her look burning like fire, her hand gripping the bow and the end of an arrow.

" Everyone, calm down…I bet we don’t have much time. We are walking into a trap… trust me on this, please, "Kyra said in a hushed voice, an unsettling feeling washing over her, her gaze scouting the surroundings. "This! This is a trap…"Kyra whispered. "Alyre…that damned stupid girl. She said you called her, Tyrande, she was listening…And this morning she was not at her post….Please, listen to me, we have to go back, now!"

" I don’t know who is that person you are talking about! Now compose yourself or Mother Moon help me I…" Tyrande said with a darkened expression.

"What are you trying to do, warrior? I can assure you, I swore to kill you if you try anything that threatens the High Priestess" Shandris hissed with her bow at ready and targeted Kyra when suddenly her expression changed. She made a quick turn with her body away from the warrior, shielding Tyrande from whatever or whenever was hiding in the distance.

There it was. The feeling from this morning. Kyra looked at the High Priestess to say something more, only to notice the concerned look on her face. She felt it too then. They were being watched. The group, slowly formed a circle, with their backs at each other

"What is this trickery?"Tyrande whispered angryly. "Moongaze, I hope for all that it is sacred that you have nothing to do with that."

"My only fault in this is that I did not notice this earlier" Kyra whispered, her jaw clenched, her heart racing, her eyes looking for whatever was causing the unsettling feeling.

Tyrande let out a barely audible grunt.Their breaths became one as every step could mean the end of them all. In a snap second, a foul, unbearable smell of decay was spreading through the air.

"Cover your mouths and noses! "Tyrande let out a muffled command while covering her face with the end of her robe. "Do not breath in the stench, by all means! Retreat...slowly"

"Over there!" Vyron screamed pointing in front of him.

A blue form vanished before their eyes.

"Horde…"Shandris spat with disgust.

Kyra noticed an enormous white stain coming their way from all directions A wall shaped mass of something milky was quickly enveloping the surroundings

"Fog …"she whispered. "Everyone, listen up! We will be swallowed in that fog, there is no way to run! Breathe only through cloth . Hold your ground, no matter what – do not leave your guard down. And most important, protect the Priestess with your life!"

She could feel the surprised look Tyrande sent her way, even if it lasted for a mere second. She heard a faint “ _Mother Moon, give us strength_ ” before the white mass wrapped around them.

It was impossible to see in any other direction. It was impossible to see her companions even. She had to relay on her instincts. Kyra hooded her eyes, and trough the mist cloud she saw silhouettes. Ten, maybe fifteen. They were everywhere. That meant…

"We are surrounded! "She roared in anger. "Hold your ground!Protect…"she felt a jolt in her gut when a sharp cutting sound was heard at her right and a massive body fell on her, topling her away from the group. She took a step back to steady herself, but her foot landed on thin air . She did not scout beforehand the surroundings and she cursed herself mentally for that. Before she could breathe in, a body fell on her, knocking her down. Kyra lost her balance. They were rolling until they hit a tree trunk, knocking the air out of her lungs as the shape landed on top of her. She cursed at her negligence, but then... her eyes went wide in shock . She saw the blue haired rogue, with his throat slid oped, a terrifying grimace on his face. He was gasping for air, spasmodically chocking on his on blood while life was leaving his body. The red liquid was all over her armor and neck, covering the dead leafs with a scarlet hew. Without any hesitation and with a swift use of force she threw him off, and jumped upright, feeling a lump forming in her throat. He was...dead. Now she had to leave him here. He was so young...And he was trying to make her laugh...Her breath became shaky. " _Stop it!_ That was not important. The crystal! She scrambled to find it in her pocket. She sighted in relief when she saw the white glowing.

 _"Compose yourself"._ She had to get back as fast as she could. She got cut out from the group, and the mists were making it more harder to find her way back. All she knew was that she fell in to a groove of some sorts. Kyra tried to climb the grassy wall, her plate armor making it twice as hard. The grass was wet, and after climbing half the way she slipped, falling back in to the groove, next to the dead body, leaves and vines tangled in her hair and in the cracks of her armor. She got on her feet and let out a loud grunt, kicking the wall multiple time in frustration. She unlaced the ration bag from her belt and threw it in frustration, dropped her helmet on the ground, and kicked it aside.

" Who from the high ranking officers is alive?"she yelled from the groove.

"Shandris Feathermoon, report!" A voice called in the distance. “ _Right side”,_ she thought and was quick to climb towards it, digging with ner nails in wet dirt for support, mindful of her surroundings, trying not to fall again. If she heard her, that means the enemies did too. She had little time.

" Kyra Moongaze reporting" she yelled, scrambling her way back at the top. "I got cut out from the group! The blue haired rogue is dead. Don’t know his name, I’m sorry. Narrow the circle!"

"Who from the high ranking officers is alive?"A crying voice called from the left side.

_"No..."_

"Shandris Feathermoon, report!" the Sentinel General's voice sounding weird, shaky and strained. _”She is fighting...they don't care about us. They want Tyrande...Right side”_

" Asyliel Starseeker reporting. Elana is dead! I am gravely wounded, do not come for me. Narrow the circle..." the words of the priestess fading in the distance as she was coughing and chocking .

 _“I have to get there”_ Kyra thought to herself, her mind racing, sweat covering her brows. How did they get dismantled so easily? " _Is the enemy that strong? Or they are great in numbers? They took our defenses without leaving us a second chance"_

A loud scream interrupted her thoughts. _“Shandris!”_ Kyra got on top of the groove, dragging her body upright on the wet ground. She quickly gripped the hilts of her weapons, and started running towards the sound like her feet were on fire,. She saw a crouched frame and two others over her. And bodies. Dozens or more. All around them were bodies with slash wounds, arrows sticking out from corpses _.”Cultists?”_ she thought.

That means, as she was scrambling to get to the surface of the groove, the others were fighting.

Approaching, she saw Shandris wounded in the middle of corpses, a huge black mark on her left shoulder, skin burned. The two other were watching in horror around, helping her to get up.Their blades were coated in blood _.”Tyrande!”_ she thought, as her earlier fear was materialized before her eyes, panic crawling in her mind.

Shandris looked exhausted and drained, but judging by the look she gave Kyra, she didn’t look any better. The Sentinels leader got up, with a pained look on her face, but stood proud upright.

With shaking breath, she mumbled:

"They took Tyrande…She just collapsed in my arms, like she fainted. She did not look wounded...Too many…We could not…They are using some powerful magic or I don't know what to think...I don't know about the others..."

"In a matter of seconds?" Kyra yelled, grabbing Shandris by her neck, toppling her "You were suppose to protect her!"

"Where were you?!"Shandris said, pain in her words. "From all I know, you are a traitor!" the ranger pushed Kyra away with all her strenght, getting quickly onto her feet. "But for now I don't care about that! I don't care if you live or die!I can deal with you later! I need to find Tyrande"

"No. "Kyra retorted "I’ll go find her. Alone. Just point me where they went."

Shandris gaze went dark, and her eyes narrowed.She tried to retort, rage making her fists clench on her bow, took a step towards Kyra ,but she remembered that times like this needed restraint and cold judgment. So she took a deep breath and uttered as calm as she could

"I said I will go…Go get the reinforcements! I have little to no patience..."

"Get down! "Kyra screamed

She toppled Shandris down, seconds before a giant fire ball hit Dalia in her chest. The poor thing never stood a chance, a look of horror engulfing her features. The flying deadly ball was followed by a second one that barely missed their heads. Saliel let out a whimper as her companions body was turning in to ash and crumbling before her eyes, and fell on her knees, hands desperately trying to hug her companions vanishing body.

"Get off me, Moongaze!"Shandris let out a grunt, and without any effort pushed Kyra off her body, and got in to a crouching stance.

"Go and get reinforcements! Now!" she ordered, eyes starring in the distance.

"I am sorry." Kyra mumbled in a tiny voice, and raised her arm.

Before anyone could ask anything, Kyra's arm went around the Sentinel neck, in a fast and precise chokehold. Shandris gasped for air while struggling to get out of the grip, her heels digging the dirt, hands clawing the invading arm. The battle before took a toll on her, and slowly, her efforts to free herself became weaker and weaker, legs stopped their battle on the forest floor, and with one last breath, she rolled her eyes and fainted. Saliel looked at the scene with her eyes wide, tears running down her cheeks, her entire body shaking.

"She will be alright, it will wear off in a minute or so. Take my heartstone. Get her to safety!" Kyra said to the terrified elf.

To her horror, the other elf had a blank stare and did not move at all.

She knew that look. She saw it so many times in the midst of battle. Kyra grabbed her shoulders and shook her body.

"Are you with me?"she yelled.

Saliel whimpered, and tears started running again down her beautiful features. 

"I...don't want to...Please..." The elf cried 

"Listen to me kiddo...There is no time! We will be dead soon if we don't act! All of us. Please...It will be alright"

She shoved her heartstone in to the limp palm of the other woman.

"There...It will be alright, do you hear me?You will be safe soon.You need to take Shandris back, you will be safe there...Can you do this for me?" Saliel shook her head.

Kyra let out a frustrated grunt, and pointed at Shandris, the Sentinel grunting as she was started to wake up.

"It's not only about you now, it's about Shandris as well. Remember: when you get to Darnassus, tell them to come. Tell them to come and help. Wake up the druids if you have to! Or all is lost. Can you do that, kiddo?"

The rogue wiped her tears, and pulled Shandris in her arms .

"Yes...Yes...I can..." she mumbled.

"That is wonderful, you hear me? That is what I wanted to hear" Kyra smiled. "That's what I wanted hear! You are doing great!"

Saliel held her shaking hand upfront, and tightened her grip on the heartstone. "What about you?" she whispered, fear making her voice tremble.

"I am going after Tyrande" Kyra smiled" Now go, I will distract them. Go!"

The rogue whispered in a tiny voice the words that made the heartstone glow, and held Shandris close. As their silhouettes melted in mist, Kyra looked around for any movement or attack. As they dissapeared, and she knew they were safe, she sighted in relief. Her ears twitched as she heard a familiar hum.

“A portal…”

"Hey!" She yelled." Come at me! Or your fog is so dense it confused you too?"

She waited, her ears twitching. Leafs rustled behind her. She heard some words in a tiny whisper and she charged towards the sound, with her swords at ready until she met resistance. The blades plunged deep in a warm body, the sensation sending jolts of electricity in to her veins. She twisted them and pulled them off, blood pouring out of the wounds. The body of a man collapsed at her feet.” _Cultists…Disgusting”._ She caught a faint whisper at her right, lifted her leg slowly and kicked with her heel full force in that direction. A crack echoed in the fog, near her. And with a loud thud another fell on all four, but this one was alive, his mouth full of blood, teeth missing. Kyra grabbed the man by his neck, and brought him to her face. Her silver eyes were full of rage and her breath heavy. The cultist looked scared, and tried to run, but she pinned him to a nearby tree, holding him with her arms and knee.

"Where did you take Tyrande?And why?"

The cultist, a dark haired man, much shorter than her, with his face full of ritualistic black tatoos, looked at her with demented eyes, his face contorted from pain. His chin and neck were full of blood, the sight was a sore for the eyes.All of a sudden, he burst out in a crazy laugh.

"You will die, warrior…"he mumbled with his disfigured mouth, laughing maniacally, blood pouring from his mouth. He looked drunk or in a trance, and with a swift change of mood, he started to suffocate from laughter until his face became red.

Kyra looked at him in disgust and spat on the ground. Then, suddenly she felt a burning sensation in her arms, the body of the cultist getting warmer, and warmer until she threw him on the ground, confused. The man was still laughing on the forest floor, and then he stopped. He started screaming in horror, twitching on the ground. Kyra took two steps back. In that very moment, the man was suddenly engulfed in flames. Black smoke was rising from the body and green fire was dancing on him. He was screaming in desperation and rolling on the ground as the flame was eating his last drop of life. What was happening? She could not believe her eyes. Or…” _It was too easy...This was a distraction!”_ she realized in fear and ran towards the portal. “ _They needed Tyrande, and they don’t want to waste more time or lives…”_

Upon arriving she realized that the portal got smaller. Someone passed before her, she had to hurry. They portal will disappear soon. She will not get back, most likely. Her breath got shorter, the thrill of battle so long forgotten was pouring through her veins, making her anxious and a feeling of fulfillment made her smile. She searched her pocket for the crystal, and brought it to her eye level. It was glowing faintly white. Kyra closed her fist around it.Without giving it more thought she closed her eyes and stepped through it.


	4. Chapter 4

She was falling. Somehow she could see her body crumbling and reform itself, without any resistance or pain. Everything was moving slow, a warm blue light was enveloping the space around her. And then, she was flying. No, falling at a great speed and saw the other end of the portal getting closer. She felt sick and drowsy, but she tried to control it.With an effort she tried to outstretch her legs forward, she knew if she didn't do this, her head will hit the ground first. The air around her felt thick but the years of expertise helped her do the move with ease. Her heels hit ground with a loud thump. _"This will hurt tomorrow"_ she thought, her eyes raising up to take in her surroundings. She was...

...in Ashenvale.

Her jaw dropped in surprise. _"This cannot be!"._ It was the same place from where she left... But the fog was missing. And the dead bodies from earlier. She looked around suspiciously. She knew Ashenvale pretty well, for her to be mistaken. She was there, but at the same time it was different.

A jolt of electricity made her eyes wide. There was no sound. No birds chirping, no water falling, no wind. Kyra looked up. The sky was dark, a maelstrom of black clouds was covering what appeared to be a pale shade of sun. _"What is this place?"_ A loud pop startled her, made her turn around in surprise and draw her weapon. Only to see the portal closed shut right before her eyes.

"No turning back..." she said at loud, regret in her voice.

"Ya' got dat' right, elf" a low, annoyed voice in a thick accent rumbled behind her, breaking the silence.

She quickly turned around with her weapons at ready, the grip placed firmly on their hilts. Her hooded eyes looked over for the source of the voice. Only to find ...nothing. He melted in to shadows. _"A rogue..."_ she thought, and this reflection seemed to bother her greatly. Rogues were unpredictable, ruthless and most of them had no honor. They always fight dirty, resorting to nasty tricks, so there is no chance to get out from a fight with a rogue unscarred. They never loose, even when they die in a duel. You are left with either some poison that is hard to cure, or wound that will heal in a great deal of time. Kyra yelled at the nearby formation of trees, where she could sense the rogue's presence lingering

"Show yourself! Have some honor, at least. Let's have a fair battle...".

No answer, no movement in return to her request. She bit her lip impatiently. She felt her heartbeat in her throat, the anticipation of a fight made her veins pump unexpected levels of adrenaline. She missed it so much.

"Want to play hide and seek, rogue?" she whispered

"You are making me angry...don't say I did not warn you. You better show yourself" she whispered trough her clenched teeth

 _"Then I will make you..."_ she thought to herself.

Rogues may be tricky and unpredictable, but she was a seasoned fighter as well and had some tricks up her sleeve. Kyra's eyes slowly scouted the surroundings, focusing her gaze and attention on every move the opponent could make. Her eyes were narrowed, glancing trough her eyelids, her body tense, feet planted firmly in the forest sand, breathing evenly, she waited for a brief mistake that could betray his whereabouts. She could hear her own heartbeat, jumping in her chest, the tip of her ears twitching in that rhythm. 

And suddenly, there it was. Her patience paid off. Kyra felt him moving at her left, and with a swift motion, kicked the dry dirt off the ground with her left foot, the dust cloud surrounding the rogue's frame, getting him out of the shadows.

 _"Got you!"_ She smiled slightly. The rogue's frame materialized before her eyes, close to her. He looked confused, and shook his head, dust getting in to his eyes. He did not expect a dirty move from a warrior, and was caught off guard, and he stumbled backwards a few stepes.

Without losing momentum she launched forward, aiming to hit her adversary in the head with both weapons hilts. She did not want him dead, she wanted him wounded, tired, but alive, so she could question him. With a swift body turn, Kyra raised her hands up , swords lifted, jumped as high as she could in the air.

A hard kick was plunged in her stomach which launched her backwards in to a nearby tree trunk. The sudden counterattack surprised her, needless to say hurt her ribs, and she barely landed on her feet, one hand pressed in to the tree to stop the impact. It took alot of strenght to steady her entire body with one hand, and she hissed. The kick was hard, she could feel her muscles twisting and turning but it was bearable.

He was strong. There was no doubt. Her silver eyes locked with a pair of red ones. _"Troll..."_ she realized with disgust, and released a low growl. 

In front of her, a couple of feet away, now with one eye closed was a pale blue, tall troll, dressed from head to his big toes in black slim fitting leather gear. He was at least one head taller than her, with broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs. The troll had short tusks, that surely could cut through flesh, adorned with silver and golden rings. His hair was short, red and spiky. His daggers were drawn out, and the troll was hunching in a full combat stance. He had a pained grin on his face, the left corner of his mouth curled in a snarl. He did not bear any faction specific markings, so she assumed he was a hired assassin. The thought made her skin crawl. An assassin hired by cultists.

Neither of them made any move to attack the other. They were inspecting each other, as to see what they were dealing with. They both waited for the other to attack, to spot any mistake the opponent could make to be used against it. They both knew that whichever attacked first, could have the disadvantage.

" _I don't have time..."_ Kyra thought to herself, and charged forward in a straight line. And as the troll was ready to melt in to the shadows, she suddenly changed her trajectory, getting past him, much to his surprise jumping up behind him and hitting him with her sword hilt in the back of his head. He might be a rogue, but her speed was also impressive. The blow was met with a dull thump resonating from his skull.

She smiled, and leaped back, but her happiness did not last, as her grin was met with a blue, precise elbow. Kyra tried to avoid it, jerking her head back, but it was too late. The blow landed on her face, making the faceguard cut through her skin, and she fumbled two steps back. Pain shot through her lower lip and chin, and blood filled her faceguard. She felt blood trickling on her neck towards her chest, and quickly brought a hand up to fix the faceguard position. The taste of blood made her veins pump new waves of adrenaline into her body, a feeling she forgot she enjoyed.

This momentarily distraction made her lose focus for a second. _"Damn it all..."_ she thought in panic, and ducked her head, just in time. A massive blue foot was getting too close to her face, and she quickly crossed her swords in front of her, putting all of her strength in her arms, parrying his kick. The impact made her stumble back a few feet. With a scream, she quickly, twisted the blades, separating them, producing a red gushing wound on his foot. The rogue hissed, and jumped back a few steps, limping.

Kyra prepared her swords, and regained her composure. She could see his bleeding foot was not giving him any trouble, even though red stains were shading his steps But while bleeding, he could not melt in to shadows, and that was good. She smiled. One point for her.

She quickly charged towards him, taking advantage of his temporarily impairment. To her surprise, he jumped up when she got close, just as she did before, landing with his knees bent, behind her, daggers aiming for her kidneys. She quickly twisted her body, dodged the hit, with her swords. Only this time, her nose was met with the trolls forehead. A loud crack and a surprising burst of pain made her stumble backwards, as jolts of light flickered though her vision and she fell flat on to her back . She quickly rolled over, as where she landed before the troll frame jumped with his daggers in front of him, burring them in the dirt, where her shoulders were seconds before. He growled in frustration. Kyra's anger was building up too, materializing in a battle cry that erupted from her lungs.

" _Kill or be killed it is then_!" she thought, and in a second, she jumped on the trolls back in a desperate move, holding her swords at his throat with both hands from the two ends, trying to cut his throat open, her hands being protected by plate gloves, and his neck being dangerously exposed. She gripped his ribcage with her legs in a dead lock. She could see the blood on his neck trickling down, a huge blue hand gripping her blades for dear life, as he was trying to save his throat . The troll tried to shake her off by moving side to side like a cornered animal, making her helmet fall off in the process, releasing her silver locks. He flung his head back with full force, hitting her nose again, and she let out a pained cry. In seconds she felt the swelling, and even more blood was oozing from her face. He swiftly got up, throwing her over his shoulders on the rough ground, knocking the air from her lungs, making her loosen the grip on impact on one of her swords, that fell inches from the elf. A blue foot was towering over her head, at great speed, trying to crush it, but she turned faster than he anticipated, his foot hitting the forest floor. Now on her belly, she plunged her remaining sword in the ground for balance, attempting to get up as fast as she could, dirt and dust mixing with blood that was running from her lip, the mask making in impossible to spit. Before she could turn around or even get up, a heavy weight fell on her back, pinning her frame face down, with her right eye inches from her plunged blade, her stomach clenching. A knee got planted with great force on her back, the troll crouched next to her, in a prowling pose, and a strong, merciless hand gripped the silver hair, yanking her head upwards , the other arm suffocating her neck in a dead lock. And from her right side, she heard him loud and clear.

"Calm...down...elf..." he said furiously through his teeth in a perfect Common.

Kyra roared, and bit the arm that was holding her, her sharp teeth sinking in his flesh, aiming to bite it off for good. He yelled in pain, and released her. With her right elbow she hit his face full force. A short crack and a loud pained roar let her know that she broke his nose or a tusk. She crawled up, hands digging in dirt for leverage, to get to her lost sword. A strong hand dragged the elf's right foot, and she fell back down. She rolled on her back, her eyes never leaving her opponent frame. Kyra tried to hit the troll with her free foot, but he grasped that one too, trying to drag her under his frame. He was incredibly strong, a murderous stare adorning his features.

But she was agile, much more agile than he anticipated . She brought her abdomen up, with her feet caged in his hands, using that as a stepping stone, planting her hands firmly on the ground, and with a quick swing, clasped her knees on both sides of his head, in an attempt to twist his neck, or impair his hearing at least . Something plunged mercilessly in her right leg, sharp pain lanced through her limb and colorful spots flashed in front of her eyes, making her gasp from the sudden pain. He let out a thunderous roar, released her legs, rose up, and with his both hands squished her ribcage, a crack making her gasp. She felt her guts smashed together, blood vessels bursting. The troll swung her body, and tossed her in front of him, on the ground.

She rolled over on the ground, to attenuate the rough landing, her right boot falling off in the process, and she just kicked it aside. She quickly got up and took her battle stance, getting her sword from the forest floor, her eyes never leaving the blue frame in front of her, tossing one of the swords blade first at him, aiming for his chest. He dodged the swing partially, by jumping on the side from the trajectory of the weapon, but the blade still manage to bite savagely on his right side, under his ribcage, a gushing thin wound filling rapidly with blood forming there.

Sweat rolled down her skin in thick, salty beads. She could feel her heart throbbing inside her chest. Her skin felt like it was roasting, her eyes felt heavy in their sockets. She could feel the blood from her face, running on her neck in a hot, sticky steam.

The troll was fixating her as well form a few feet away, he himself was upright, breathing carefully. There was a momentary flare of anger covering his features. His face and mouth were full of blood, and he spat on the ground , crimson leaked from both his nostrils and his nose was twisted to the right, it seemed broken. He was holding his right arm outstretched, with his dagger at ready, using his left hand to cover his fresh pouring torso wound, blood trickling through his fingers. The blood from both of their faces, mixing with dirt and sweat was painting both armors and the ground with red stains.

None of them moved for a couple of seconds, eyes staring, teeth clenched. Both of them breathing carefully, as not miss any move from the other. It felt like the world itself stopped for them.

And then, they both charged at eachother with equal speed, force and anger.

The sound of steel clashing was echoing in the still and silent forest. Her blades were vibrating when they collided with his daggers, his strength surprising and overwhelming. But she continued to strike, precise blows, one after another. Her determination and fury made him stumble back with each hit, with each parry. She was remarkably rigorous and fast. He felt every impact of the blades, his strength fading slowly under her persistence.

The troll parried one last blow, and held his daggers up, blocking her swords, gritting his teeth. Then, he brought one leg up, and with what remained of his energy, hit her hard in the stomach, sending her back a few feet. He quickly jumped back and crouched, putting some distance between them.

Kyra stumbled back, planting one sword in the ground, to maintain her balance. She breathed heavily, the vigorous rain of blows she applied before took their toll on her. The troll was staring back. He too looked out of breath. She smirked.

They were equally strong and experienced in battle.

_" A worthy opponent"_ she thought, her eyes never leaving the still frame in front of her, when suddenly...he smiled wickedly at her. Kyra widened her eyes in shock, as her hands started to weaken, beyond her control, a a cold sensation, like a wave of ice water surrounding every limb, creeping higher until it passes her mouth and nose. Her heart rate accelerated in her chest as if it would explode. A dense fog took over her mind, the image in front of her starting spinning out of control, fading in to nothingness. "You honorless bastard..." she muttered before collapsing in to the ground, hitting the forest floor with a loud thud.

"About time..." she heard him whisper, before darkness took her entirely

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	5. Chapter 5

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It was dark and cold. She felt like she was floating, her head was spinning in a dizzy carousel, like she drank too much, and a vomiting sensation started to build up in her throat. She found herself falling in a endless spiral in this darkness, hurtling to an invisible floor. A floor that would most likely kill her if she continued to fall at this speed. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. All of the sudden she felt that she could not breathe through her nose, something was preventing her from doing that. She started gasping for air, with her mouth open wide, and woke up, panting, inhaling the air around her.

She woke up, taking deep, loud breaths, a wheezing sound coming from her nostrils. She tried to look around, to take in her surroundings, her mind hazy, her vision blurred. She quickly looked down at her body, hoping to find something that would help her escape, and a wave of terror surged through her veins. She was tied up with secure ropes from a branch of a near by tree, feet up in the air, not touching the ground. The twine that was bounding her was cutting painfully her flesh, turning skin white from pressure. She lost the fight. The thought made her angry. She could not accept that.

The cold air on her face could mean one thing. Her faceguard was missing. A tall, husky figure, with a sharp, blue face, covered in bloodstains and bruises was in front of her, inspecting her with caution. _"That damned rogue!"_ she thought, and in mere seconds her rage took the best of her. She narrowed her eyes, preparing to punch him, but to her horror could not feel her arms. _"The poison..."_ she thought, and the realization washed over her like a cold, sudden splash of water. She wiggled her legs, and a jolt of pain in her inner thigh made her gasp. She looked down as much as she could from that position and saw the gap in her armor made by his tusk. The hole was green to it's edges, which meant only one thing... _"The damned bastard coated his tusks with poison!"_ . She glanced at him with a murderous stare, and swung her body as much as she could, hoping to hit him.

The troll stepped back, at the sudden movement, cautiously looking at her. But she was powerless in this state. She met his gaze, her eyelids narrowed, brows frowned, lips in a thin line. She could not do anything. Her mind was racing at a crazed pace, looking for a solution to her state.

The rogue was still watching her cautious, even though he had his own issues. His left eye was swollen, and his upper lip cracked, which made him look even more menacing. He did not look scared. He was calculating. He was calling the shots now.

And it was true. What a sore sight she must be to the eye. Tied like a pack of dried meat, dangling from a branch in a unknown place. She locked her bright eyes with the troll and gritted her teeth in a defiant manner. Her eyes were cold and murderous. Behind them was something more intense than normal thought and her clenched jaw wasn't a good sign. She could not escape...at least for now... His eyes were narrowed, his stare piercing, watching carefully every move she made, tracing her every thought that might materialize on to her expression. The tension between them grew stronger with each second. But then, her rage started building up, at the sudden realization of her purpose in this place. She was here with one purpose only: to find Tyrande, she could not lose more time with this game.

"Where is Tyrande, troll?" she said in Common, in a mocking tone, breaking the silence that was surrounding them.

The troll looked surprised, and backed several more steps He inspected her dangling form once more with caution, as to see if she posed any danger. He slowly pocked with his finger at her ribs, and she screamed. It hurt. He took his time to look her up and down and with one final look, assured that she was harmless, he turned his back to her, and walked away, mildly relaxed.

"I know you speak Common, Troll" the elf said louder, breaking the silence once more, making him stop, with his back to her.

The troll rolled his shoulders, and continued to walk slowly, as if he did not hear her.

Kyra puffed in frustration. At least he was far away, so she would get to try to free herself.

This was not the first time she got tied up. She could barely feel her wrists and ankles, but she could move her fingers, which was a good sign. Slowly, without drawing any attention she moved her left fingers under one of her bracers. The move was difficult, and the numb wrist made it even harder. She let out an barely audible gasp when she reached the small blade that she hid there this morning, and froze, her eyes never leaving the troll that was now crouched, looking for something in his backpack. He did not seem to hear her, or give her any importance, so she exhaled in relief. The small blade was a much more harder task than she anticipated, given the fact that her limbs were partially numb, and it kept slipping from her hand. With careful and calculated motions, she positioned the blade inside her wrists facing the ropes.

"Ya' gonna' cut ya'self with dat" the troll's voice made her freeze. At the sudden interruption, the knife slipped trough her weak fingers, and landed on the ground like a useless piece of metal. She punched herself mentally at her sudden slip, and rolled her eyes, irritated.

He turned around, and started walking towards her shocked frame with what appeared to be some piece of cloth in his large hand.

"Stop right there, or I swear to..."she started menacing, before a enormous piece of cool clothing covered her face. She tried to bite his hand, only to clasp her teeth on thin air. She started moving her head frantically from side to side, trying to get the piece of cloth off her face. Her head hurt, like someone was playing some distorted drum rhythm inside her skull, and she could barely breathe. One strong hand suddenly cupped her forehead, pressing her temples, forcing her movements to stop.

"Cut it out, turnip." he said in a low voice, his tone menacing.

Kyra's eyes went wide. The insult made her freeze for a moment. From all she could tell, those bandages could be coated in poison, but she did not have time to think about that. She swiftly turned her head from his grasp, and said through her teeth, locking her furious eyes with his.

"Where did you take Tyrande, troll?"

The rogue looked at her with narrow eyes and puffed with annoyance. He unceremoniously placed the cloth under her nose, wiping the blood from her face, without any regards for her well being. She tried to turn her head again, but his other hand on her forehead kept her steady. She simply hissed at him, but that didn't seem to bother the troll. The short "cleaning" movements were hitting her face, hurting, but it was bringing an surprising relief. The smell of the bandage stung her nostrils, it was the familiar smell of medicine that was used for open wounds. The fact that he was cleaning her face with medicine, puzzled her.

"I asked you something..." she continued, her eyes not leaving his face.

"Answer me, troll!" she hissed, her voice full with anger and annoyance.

Without answering, he crouched and picked up the small knife she dropped earlier. Once again a small hint of fear found her. She looked at him with a deadly stare, expecting the cold blade to pierce through her skin. Instead, the troll rose to his full height, and without any warning, cut the rope that was holding her in the air, the gravity being as predictable as always, making her land unexpectedly on the hard ground, with a loud thump.

A small gasp left her lips. She wanted to land on her feet, but they felt limp and didn't listen, so she touched the ground with her left side, releasing a pained cry. He didn't seem to care, as he crouched next to her, and started to cut the ropes from her hands and ankles, without any regards for her suffering.

He took one look at her and threw the antiseptic cloth on her face, and a flask of something blue next to her. Then, as nothing happened, he walked away, dropping her knife on the forest floor in the process.

"Wipe yo' face with dat, or it will get infected. Yo' leg too. An' drink that crap. That be an antidote fo' tha' poison" he said while walking slowly away .

Kyra looked at him in disbelief. He did not turn back and only stopped when he reached his backpack. She prayed for a short second of strength, so she could crack his head open. Her own helplessness angered her, and the irritation was changing slowly in to frustration as she was trying to bring her body to senses.

She was laying down on her side, feeling a thousand needles piercing her limbs as her hands and feet came to their senses. Careful, she ripped the cloth in two and she placed one piece under her nose, and with great effort got in to a sitting position, resting her back on the tree. The other piece she folded carefully, and placed it on the wound on her upper leg, armor being broken making it easy to bandage it. It stung. She knew she will have to repair it. She frowned.She took the blue flask and brought it to her nose. It was a common used antidote, being an alchemist herself, she could recognize the recipe. Still, she was being confused and cautious.

"You drink first" she said in a low voice, and threw the flask aside.

"I don' need it."the Troll answered, his back turned at her.

"I got poisoned once by you..."

Silence crawled between them. She could feel the pain from her sore muscles and open wound growing more and more present. She tried not to give herself away, and clenched her jaw. One of them has to give up.

The seconds of silence felt like hours. The troll let out an audible sigh and rose up. Rolling his eyes he walked next to her, took the flask and took a sip. She met his gaze and raised one brow. He rolled his eyes again, opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. The tongue had a blue streak over it. _"He really drank"_ she thought to herself. The troll leaned in, and held the potion in his outstretched three finger hand towards her. Kyra took the flask slowly, cautious, her eyes never leaving his face, her hand shaky. She smelled it once more, and she knew it was not poison, so she took a sip. The troll rose to his full height, shadow towering over the elf and walked slowly towards his backpack. Kyra sighted in relief.

Pain started to subside slowly, so she took another sip, just to be sure. She lay motionless, afraid to move. Any movement could mean a new shot of pain. Then, she felt it. The potion started to work. Every inch of her frame was stingy, as her body was coming to it's senses, but that was not bad at all. Slowly, the sensation went away, and she could feel her limbs once more. She slowly wiggled her fingers. She smiled. But still, she did not move.

Right now, to play the helpless card was her best option. She placed the flask down on the ground next to her.

"I'm going to kill you, you know that." she muttered, her breath short.

The troll exhaled loudly, shook his head and turned his gaze to his backpack.

" Where is Tyrande, troll? Where are you taking her?"

The troll was silent. He was ignoring her in the most blatant way possible, which made her slightly irritated. He continued to rummage trough his belongings as she was not there.

"I'm going to keep asking you until you will give me something..."

The troll paused for a second. He slowly raised his eyes and looked at her. His gaze was unwavering .

"I don' know" He said in a low voice and returned to his backpack.

"There' s one thing I cannot stand and that's a liar. I hate liars....."she whispered and grinned.

She looked at the small knife that he left on the ground, careless, dangerously close to her. An idea shot through her mind with amazing speed, as she saw her chance. With her left hand, she silently cupped the blade in her palm. Using the tree for support, slowly as not to raise suspicion, she tried to get up on her feet. Her legs felt flabby, and she used all her strength to keep her frame steady. Luckily, the antidote started working, and she started to stabilize herself. She silently inhaled, filling her lungs with air, tensing her muscles. He did not seem to notice her movement, still preoccupied with his stuff. His neck was exposed. A quick cut will do. She smiled to herself.

Her eyes never leaving his face, like a prowling panther, she prepared a full blown attack. She gripped the blade and inhaled once more.

She planted one foot in front of the other, in a battle stance, prepared to attack, when...something hit her right in the head.

Cling!

A small, shiny object bounced from her forehead on the ground. The sudden action took her by surprise, and she looked confused in the direction from which the object came flying.

She could see his outstretched arm, his eyes looking in front of him, avoiding her stare, same as before. He simply motioned towards it, and continued rummaging through his backpack, distracting himself, not willing to meet her gaze. Kyra took a glance at the object, and then back at the rogue, confused and cautious.

"What is that, troll?" she asked, her fist clenched on the knife, her jaw stiff.

"We' met before..."

His deep voice made her change her expression in a mere second. Her jaw dropped. She quickly glanced at the object on the ground....and froze.

A round, silver insignia with intricate markings from Karabor on it was laying on the forest ground. The same one she was wearing hidden under her belt.

A shiver ran down her spine. _"No"_.A lump formed in her throat, and it made her look twice at the object. Even though she was hoping to be wrong, that was Insignia of Karabor. She closed her eyes and shook her head. _"It cannot be..."_

 _"_ You could have stolen that" she said in a low voice, starring at the ground. "What proof do I have that you are what you say you are?"

The troll finally looked at her, his eyes piercing through her mind. And as sudden as a breeze, his voice filled her thoughts _"I did not steal dat'."_ she heard in her head, loud and clear.

Her breathing stopped. Kyra felt like her chest became a little tighter, breathing more difficult and couldn't formulate any coherent thought. Sharp, merciless memories cutting through her mind like an army of trained soldiers. _"No....After all this time...He can't be..."_

"The...Black...Temple..." she let out a barely audible whisper, looking at him. The words sounded eerie. She did not remember the last time when she uttered those words. Even the shape of her mouth forming them was unfamiliar for her now.

"Yes" The troll uttered, staring at the ground. He lifted his gaze, and met hers.

She felt her very soul melting. Emotions long buried were crawling their way to the surface. Guilt. Fear. Dread. Anger. Fear. Fear. Fear.

She was not prepared for that. She was confused and lost. Her lower lip started twitching. Slowly, she turned her gaze towards the troll. His eyes... Where from? What were they? _"No..."_

She remembered those eyes. The very same eyes that took pity on her in the infirmary, in Shattrah.

She had to ask. She had to ask as to not go insane.

" Why did you remove my faceguard?"

" Had ta' be sure it's you." He mumbled in a low voice, turning his look away from her again, holding his backpack in his hands, fists clenched on the fabric.

"But then you knew...Why did you spare my life?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. The last words where lingering in the air, and a new wave of feelings washed over her.

She feared what could come next, but still the question was asked. She was prepared for the answer. She heard it so many times. But she wanted to hear it again and again. She needed that pain. She was prepared for it. She was nothing without it.

She raised her chin upwards, in a defiant manner, waiting for the answer.

"'Cause I don' blame ya' fo' what happened..."the troll voice sounded like thunder.

His answer made her numb. He jaw dropped slightly. She looked at the rogue that was avoiding her gaze, and could not believe what she was hearing. And it dawned on her.

He did not try to kill her before. He tried to stop her from killing him...He never used his blades to murder her, he tried to impale or make her slower.

"So you are not one of them...The cultists..." Kyra asked, the words getting stuck in her throat. She looked around, avoiding to look in the direction of the rogue, still not knowing what to do with the new information.

The forest was silent, the air was heavy. The sky was dark, and no movement was around. She took a deep breath, and sat down.

A moment of silence crawled between them again. What could they possible tell to eachother? But it did not bother either of them. It was that moment of stillness that past brothers in arms share. And they both knew it.

Kyra took the insignia from the ground, and handed it to him. He took it, avoiding to look at her.

She broke the silence with a raspy voice, startling him.

"Do you know what is this place?"

He lay on his back, and looked up at the sky.

"No" he said softly."But...I kno' that an hour 'ere, is a second in tha' real world"

"You've been here before?"

"Yes." He muttered for himself.

"Do you know where they took Tyrande?"

" No" he said short.

Her shoulders sunk. It felt like her head was out of ideas. She had no clue where to go. She frowned.

"But I know one thing. If ya' stayed in our world, tha' portal would still be open" he said and put his arms behind his head.

"What does that suppose to mean ?" she got close to him, towering over the troll.

He puffed in annoyance.

"The portal supports a numbah' of people. I' killed two of them, and stepped in. One fo' me, and one ta keep it open. You took the last one' place, so the portal closed..."he added and shrugged.

Kyra looked at him dumbfounded. She knew how portals worked. That meant that the only way out was through battle. So much for her stealth mission...

"But, "he added, "last time when I came 'ere, they came back. This is the place where dey' summon... As far as I kno' .So we get one of 'em, we make 'im create anotha' portal."

" That's it? We wait?"she added sarcastically

"Ya mon. I 'ave a plan for when dey get back. Fill ya on de details later" he said, and turned on his side, his back to her.

"Try ta' get some rest until they get back."

She looked at him adjusting his position on the forest floor like that was an everyday activity for him. He seemed to calm, his arms resting under his head. He was laying on the ground, peaceful. It vaguely sounded like he drifted off. She was appalled. He did not look like a soldier on a battlefield, or an assassin at this point. He looked like a traveler that camped and wanted to rest for a bit.

She started pacing back and forth. This whole situation slowly started to anger her. He could sleep, of course, but she could not. If anything would happen to the Priestess, it will be her fault. Her fault for hesitating. Her fault for letting her people down. For letting her guard down. For trusting a stranger. The thoughts invaded her mind like an angry swarm of bees. It felt like the situation was slipping through her fingers, just like sand...

She stopped, realizing that she could move much better than before. She took two more steps Yes, the pain was almost gone. She quickly started to inspect her armor. Her gloved fingers moved slowly over her plate, pushing gently on the spots she felt were loose of weak. It was in good condition. By no means ideal, but good for a couple of battles. The chestpiece was mostly intact, with a few scratches here and there. She looked down and saw a dent in the middle. It still could provide protection though, wich was a good thing. She looked at her legs. Her legplates had a hole in them roughly the size of a palm. She cursed herself for not bringing any tools with her for armor repair. Through the hole she could see her dressed wound. She adjusted the bandage over it one more time, pushing gently. To her luck, the pain subsided greatly. She glanced over the ground, searching for her swords. They were laying not far from her, so she ran over to get them.

"Will ya' cut the clanckin'? I'm tryin' ta sleep. "

His voice startled her, and she stopped and faced him. He was still on the ground, but this time on his back.

"I told ya' ta rest. We have a long wait." He mumbled.

"I'm not going to wait, troll. Tyrande might be in great danger."she quickly added, and grabbed her swords.

" I told ya' ta stay put..."

"And I told you I can't!"

"Why are ya' like dis?"

"My instincts are telling me to go!"

"No, dey are not. That stubborn head o' your is telling you"

"I'm ending this now.."

"You gotta listen ta me..."

"Who put you in charge?"

"Ya' stay put, turnip..."

His low voice rumbled menacingly. His words sounded like a command and that stirred something inside her brain. She slowly turned to face him. Her face was red, her lips in a thin line. She slowly sheathed her weapons and clenched her fists on her hips. Her blood was boiling, and without thinking , she spat:

"I will not. Take. Orders. From. You!"

Her voice echoed through the forest...

He moved so fast towards her, that she saw only a shade. By the time she realized he was moving, the troll was inches away from her. He slammed one hand on her mouth, pinning her to the tree with the other hand. After the initial shock and confusion, in a second the adrenaline levels in her veins went up. A murderous stare was greeting him.

The troll rolled his eyes, and puffed when he realized that the small blade was at his neck. He bared his teeth to her, inches away from her face. His eyes seemed more red and dark than usual. She could see clearly the broken bones from his nose, the frown on his brows. The words came from his cracked lips as a warning and a threat at the same time.

"Don't.Yell. Turnip. Dey might hear ya'. Ya'll kill us both."

"I broke your nose once, troll. I can do it again" she replied coldly, pushing the blade into his skin. The knife drew a thin white line on his blue neck. _"One wrong move, troll..."_

He spat on the ground next to her and moved one step back , grabbing the knife from her hand in one swift motion . She gasped at punched herself mentally for her weak grip. He took to more steps back, shaking his head at her. Anger still resided in his look . He spat once more on the ground and sat down plunging the knife in the soil, next to him. The troll mumbled something to himself in his language, rolling his eyes.

She did not move at first. There was tension in the air so thick, you cut cut it with a knife. Kyra slowly, composed herself, regaining her upright posture and retorted in a lower voice:

"If they can hear me, that means they are close... What point is there for us to wait like scared critters? If we take the war to them – which we should –they will never see it coming..."

"No. This is not how dis works, mon. Ya stay here. I told ya', I ave a plan." he interrupted her.

Kyra puffed in annoyance, and shook her head . She reached for the crystal in her pocket , took one quick look at it, and to her horror, the light from it was fading.

"You do what you want, then, troll. I'm going after them. I can't lose more time on this nonsense. Don't even dare to stop me." she said in a hushed tone, storming past him, in the direction of the forest. He rose up, one hand outstretched, trying to stop her.

"No...", but it was too late.

His eyes followed the rushing elf a couple of feet, and his neutral expression did not change one bit, when something invisible made her fly mid air, and projected her flat on the ground.

Thud.

She quickly rose up, staring confused at the rogue. The troll opened his mouth, but before words could form, she went forward again...only to get thrown back like before. He did not move, did not even try to help her get up. Scratching his head, he crouched next to her, and added in a small tone.

"Ya' see... As I was tryin' ta say before...All aroun' dis place are invisible walls. Thin air, not letting ya' go any furtha'. I' tried before."

She was laying on the ground, on her back her frame still, her lips in a thin line, brows furrowed. She looked at the troll with hooded, angry eyes, her skin turning purple from embarrassment and anger.

"Why...you did not tell me this?!"she hissed...

"Ya' nevah asked" The rogue said quietly, and went back to his backpack.

She felt useless, stupid and angry. She quickly sat up, and with a loud exhale, let her forehead rest on her bent knees.

" Ya' Priestess is strong." He said in a comforting tone.

" She can handle a bunch of crawlin' hooded idiots"

He slowly grabbed one of his weapons from its sheath and started cleaning it with a piece of cloth, his gaze fixed on the dagger.

Kyra raised her head, looked at him with tired eyes and whispered:

"We...just wait now...? "

"Yes. This is all we can do fo' now."

His last words made her shoulders sink . She tried to find a solution. Something. Anything. No...not a single idea in her clouded head. She slowly reached for the crystal in her pocket. It was fading, slowly. But at the very least that meant that Tyrande was still alive. If barely...

"I hate doing nothing..." she whispered to herself.

Kyra rose up to her feet, shaking the dust away from her armor.She slowly approached him, and handed him the folded bandage from before.

"I must say that... I appreciate that you... Your bandage..."she said in a tiny voice

The troll took the cloth, and nodded. He searched in his backpack, and took out another bandage. With his left hand, he unlaced his chestpiece, and exposed a closing wound underneath his ribcage. He pressed the bandage to the wound and his face contorted in a pained grimace. He then proceeded to apply some sort of concoction from a jar to it, and tied the cloth over the injury. Kyra realized that she made that wound earlier with her sword, and a creeping, strange sense of regret crawled in her mind, and she turned her gaze away. She looked at him again, when she heard him lacing his armor back. In a timid tone, she asked him:

"It looks bad, in my opinion...Does it hurt when you move?"

The troll looked at her. She could clearly see he was hurting. His eyes could no mask the pain, even if his face tried to.

"I'm a troll, man. I regenerate fast."he said and rolled his shoulders to adjust the already laced armor.

She hurt him.

She could tell by the scratches on his armor, bruises on his face and the cuts that were full of dirt on his body. And the broken nose, that stood proud and crooked on his hawkish features.

"I'm asking because we might need to team up when they get back... Like it or not. Two are better than one. Can you fight?"

"I can. Can you?" the troll retorted in a mocking tone

Kyra`s gaze darkened. She raised one eyebrow.

"Of course I can" she replied in an icy tone.

"Good" he concluded, and went back to cleaning his daggers.

Kyra furrowed her brows. His sudden sarcastic tone irritated her. She decided to ignore his comment and sat down.

She looked one more time around, and for a lack of better activities started to tend her hair in silence. The fight from before turned it in to a tangled mess, strains getting in to her eyes. She started to detangle the white strands, braiding them one by one, tight to her scalp. She broke the silence unexpectedly, and tuned her face towards him.

"Why are you here?" she asked, preoccupied with her hair.

He stopped his actions for a brief moment.

"You don't need to make conversation" he responded absently.

"I am not." She retorted, anger slowly building up in her voice.

"Long story. " he said, and started packing his scattered things.

"Make it short, then." Kyra hissed

He scratched his head, and looked in front of him, preoccupied by his belongings.

"Don' wanna" he said calmly

"You know why I'm here. It's only fair that you tell me why you are here. It's a matter of trust." She made sure she emphasized the last word.

The troll looked at her and held her gaze for a moment, as to see if she was really interested.

"Alright then "he started, his voice calm. " Their leadah took something that belongs ta me... An' he made tha mistake of letting this troll live" he said in a low voice, and continued with his task. "Happy now?"

" _Happy now?_ " she mimicked him.

The troll stopped and looked at her in surprise.

"What is ya' problem, elf?" he whispered.

Kyra exhaled loudly, a tangle from her hair was stubbornly preventing her from braiding the rest of it. She gave up and let a low growl.

"You are my problem..." She mumbled.

"Wha' was that?" he slowly turned his gaze towards her.

"You. Are. My. Problem. " she cupped her face in despair." I was doing fine. I was doing excellent. I was suppose to bring back Tyrande or die trying to do that. Now you appeared with your weird mysterious story, heading the same way as I do. And we've met before, so you know who I am. You did not kill me, while tried to poison me. You are confusing and I feel like I have to trust you, but I don't want to at the same time."

The troll looked at her as she slowly let her head fall on her bent knees. A mass of tangled silver locks was framing her face. He slowly rose up and got up close to her.

"Can I braid ya' hair?"

She thought that she misheard him. She looked up and saw him looking straight at her. There was no question, she heard him well.

"What?"

"Ya hair. I can braid it. Ya gonna need it for the battle. Ya can't untagle it."

"Are you joking?" she retorted, her gaze narrowed.

"It's a mattah of trust..."

He was getting back at her with her own words. Clever play.

"I don't need your help" she retorted, and proceeded to continue with that stubborn strand. Her hand got tangled again, and anger washed over her, but she tried to hide it. She pulled the hair over and over, until the weakness in her arms made her to stop. Her arms fell limp on the ground, and she gave up.

The troll watched her, his arms crossed on his chest. When she gave up, he started walking towards her. He slowly got close, palms upfront, as to show her that he was unarmed. She looked at him in His hands looked incredibly big and his fingers clumsy. There was no way he could braid her hair. Any hair for that matter.

But he was right. Long tangled hair could posses a disadvantage. Plus they could face many enemies. She sighted.

"Don't try anything funny" she whispered

"I am no' stupid" he added, standing still, palms up, waiting for her approval

"Give me the knife." she said in a calm tone.

He obliged. He slowly reached for the small knife and handed it to her. She quickly grabbed it with her left hand.

"If you try anything, I will kill you. And cut my hair afterwards"

He was still standing there, looking at her, palms up, as before.

She nodded in approval,

He slowly moved behind her, and crouched. He did not touch her hair, cautious of her possible change of heart. When he was sure she was not going to back down, he started.

He ran his fingers through her hair, slowly and patiently detangling every twist of her silver white waves. She had beautiful hair, he noticed, running his hands trough it. It smelled odd. A mix of fruits and alcohol. Or was it peacebloom? He stopped. There was blood in her hair. His blood. It was gripping some strands in it's red grasp, like an intruder. He shook his head, and continued with his task. War is war after all.Slowly, strand by strand, her hair started to submit to his magic. Once it was free of knots and dirt, he started to braid it.

For Kyra it felt strange. It felt comforting in a bizarre way. For a creature that had huge hands, his actions felt quite delicate. She did not remembered the last time someone touched her scalp. It was a pleasant feeling. But an unfamiliar one. So oddly foreign it felt, that it scared her. She calmed herself by thinking

"Tell ya' what. We make a deal, warrior. And a deal is a deal. A trade if ya' want"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused

"Ya' help me kill their leader. I do everthin' in ma' power to help you free ya Priestess. And I give ya' my word."

"Your name." she uttered. "Not your word. Your name."

His actions stopped for a second. He could feel him hesitate.

" Roh'khin " he exaled slowly.

 _"Roh'khin da' Kah "_ she heard echoing in her mind. _"It means da' masked one"_

 _"No tribe?"_ she asked

_"No. Used ta' be Darkspear if dat counts"_

"Good. Then it's a deal. If you lie, I'll find you."

He nodded his head, rose to his full height, and offered his hand to her.

"Done already?" she asked surprised.

Kyra touched her head and felt the tight braiding with and intricate pattern. She brought the braid to her front and gasped in amazement.

"Thank you.." she smiled and rose up.

She accepted his hand . Her hand looked small in his palm, and for a brief moment she wondered if she ever stood a chance when they fought before. She smiled and locked his eyes with his. But in a second her eyes went wide, and fear washed over her . She realized her faceguard was missing. She talked this whole time with him, and he saw her scar, he saw her deformed mouth. She quickly turned around, pulling her hand from his, her eyes frantically searching for her faceguard on the ground. Her hands started shaking, her lower lip twitching. She saw it, and her expression lit up. She leapt towards it, and with a swift motion grabbed it off the ground. She tried to equip it with her back at him, when she heard his deep voice behind her.

"Food?"

The question took her by surprise, and she stopped her movements. She slowly turned towards him, with her faceguard in her hand. He stood there, like nothing happened, searching in his backpack.

"I ...I.." she said slowly, looking at the faceguard in her shaking hands "I..guess..."

She looked at him . He seemed preoccupied by him backpack again, and she started slowly to approach him.

He grabbed two pieces of Lyribread wrapped in banana leaves, from his backpack. She could feel the familiar smell of fried trout too, and her guess was right. He handed her a piece of bread, and then a handful of small fried fish. She slowly let the faceguard rest on the ground.She took the food in her hands and looked at the troll.

The realization struck her like ton of bricks. If she would eat, she would not have to wear her faceguard.

She stood there, with food in her hands, starring at the weird rogue that seemed to have no care in this world. The troll simply took his share of the food, sat next to her, and started eating. She could feel a lump in her throat forming.

"Eat." He said calmly, looking at his share of food.

She took a bite of bread, and chewed slowly, trying to look in front of her.What a sight they were. Enemies, eating in silence next to each other, turning the past battleground in to a sanctuary.

It was the first time after so many years that she was sharing a meal with someone. And a strange unknown feeling washed over her.


	6. Chapter 6

She was alone, in a cage, shivering. The dirt she was laying on was cold and rough, a foul smell emanating from every inch of it. Her body felt sore. Fresh wounds from her bound wrists were filling with puss and coagulated blood, and her head was pounding. She was crying, could not stop her tears from rolling out of her eyes. She had only her underwear on , dirty and with blood stains on it. They took her armor and weapons. She felt weak and powerless. How could she phantom she would win? They broke her. They laughed in her face. They did not believe her. Even when she showed them the necklace.

What kept her alive was the living spark of holy light still surging through her veins. Small, comforting, barely there. But in this place, the light hurt. Every ounce she had in her body was fighting with this place, hurting her mind in the process.

Heavy foot steps were heard in the distance, approaching and she curled in to a ball, shivering again, fear washing over her. She closed her eyes shut, expecting another torture. She would not let them see her weakness.

"Up yet?" A harsh voice came through the bars, to her surprise in Thalassian.

"Yes..." She said in a steady voice, opening her eyes, trying to get up, looking defiant at the blood elf in front of her. She was tall and blonde, a cloth covering her eyes. Small black horns were adorning her forehead.

"Good." The demon hunter smiled. "Aresha, she's all yours". She stepped aside, making room for the one called Aresha. A seaweed smell filled the air, and the sound of scales dragged across the room startled her. A tall, green Naga female was in the door frame, her tentacle hair decorated with various baubles. Her face was pretty, but her eyes spelled murder. She was wearing some cloth chestpiece, that was leaving little to imagination.

"Let'sssss ssssssee what your mind has in ssssstore, warden" The scaled witch hissed

"No..." Kyra stumbled back "I've told you everything..." but before she could finish her sentence, the sea witch raised her hand, and with a short chant, waves of an invisible force bore in to her mind, making her veins on her neck pop out, her jaw stiff. She was blinded with flashing colorful spots, her head pounding. Pain would throb so violently around her skull that she wondered why it didn't just crack open. She screamed from the top of her lungs, her throat sore. The naga spell invading her thinking, cutting in to he thoughts like a dull knife, destroying every ounce of sanity she had left. Suddenly, it stopped. She grasped for air, an annoying ringing in her ears making her , her vision hazy. She lay down on her back, barely hearing anything. She saw the door of the cell open, a pair of female arms picking her up, all in a blur. Her mouth was slightly open, saliva drooling from one side.

"Get her to the headquarterssssss. And call upon the Masssssster. Now!" she heard vaguely, and them she blacked out.

******************************************************************

Kyra woke up because something was annoyingly poking her ribs. The bed she was sleeping felt like a pile of rocks. The air was cold and heavy. Her clothes felt stuck to her skin as blood and cold sweat were starting to become dry. She opened her eyes, and looked up. She was not in her bed, nor in Darnassus. She looked around with sleepy eyes, getting up slowly, only to realize where she was. And in that moment, it felt like a sudden jolt of electricity surged through her veins and made her jump to her feet. She looked confused at the troll that was at her left, his palms facing her, arms in the air. Only now she realized she grabbed the small knife and was holding it towards the rogue, the tip of the blade at his neck.

"Easy... I woke ya' up." he said in a low voice, his eyes on the blade. His gaze had no fear in it, only concern. He moved his gaze from the blade to her face, as to calm whatever storm was building in her mind.

She drew her hand back, slowly, hiding the knife back under her bracer in swift motion. Her movement were insecure, the remnants of the sleep still in her movement. She felt her hands shaking. How did she afford sleep in the first place, given the situation?

"You startled me." she said a sleepy voice. The troll lowered his arms, and rolled his shoulders back.

"Dey should come any minute now. " He was holding now both of her swords, and she almost smiled, realizing that they looked small in his hands.

"Here" he said, in a hushed tone.

She took them, and sheeted them next to her belt, one for each side. She quickly grabbed the faceguard from the ground, and secured it onto her face.

"Plan?"

"You beat dem up, I' be in stealth " He added, and his frame started to fade, as he was melting in to shadows. She rolled her eyes.

"That is not a plan..."

 _"It is one in mah book"_ she heard in her head.

Before she could say anything, she felt a light push in her chest, and the earth left her feet. The sleep from before dulled her senses a bit, she realised she was falling way too late. She ended up on her back, hitting the ground behind a nearby bush. She rose up, somewhat confused.

The rogue pushed her, and he was nowhere to be seen. " _Coward"_ she thought as she was trying to regain her composure. She rearranged her armor and took one glance around. The rogue made sure that nothing was left behind. Even their footprints were gone. The earth looked untouched. It was like they never were there. She smiled appreciatively at his effort. He was a good soldier. 

She froze. A familiar feeling of dread suddenly overwhelmed her. Her eyes started darting around frantically, her movement stopped, barely breathing and the small hair from the back of her head stood up.

They were here. Her eyes settled over some movement a few feet away from her.

She could identify two shapes, one of them taller than the other. She assumed that one of them was a Night Elf, judging by the ears that were sticking out. The silhouettes were creeping into the place that hours before held the portal, getting closer and closer to her spot. Both of them wore hooded, dark robes and seemed to be in a hurry. 

_"Wait..."_

As they got closer, she could see clearly that one of them was a female Night Elf, and the other one most likely a human male, judging by his size and lack of pointing ears. She gripped the hilts of her weapons and narrowed her gaze.

_"Wait..."_

The cultists whispered something between themselfes, and looked around. The male's gaze fell on the bush formation where she was hiding. He squinted his eyes.

Kyra froze. She did not breathe. But he looked away in a second, completely unaware of her presence. She sighted in relief. None of them seemed to notice her .They whispered something and joined hands, with their backs at her, and started chanting a spell.

 _"Now!"_ the troll's deep voice echoed in her head, reverberating, sending a bolt of electricity through her core and she obliged.

She quickly rose up and leaped as high as she could from bushes, hitting the closest one with the hilts of her swords, right in the head. The human collapsed instantly, without any resistance. The other one, a night elf, visibly startled, hissed at her, withdrew a few steps back, and screamed something in a unknown language .

Before she could do anything, she was up in the air, her whole body numb, blood pooling in to her mouth. Her insides were burning like fire, twisting and turning in a mad dance, pain hitting her stomach like branding iron, breathing becoming more difficult. A painful lump was forming in her throat, and her senses started leaving her. The trees started spinning, and before she knew it, everything became a blur, her eyes heavy, abandoning herself to what was to come.

Then, she felt like she was slowly levitating, the pain ceasing, her body coming to it's senses. She opened her eyes, moments before hitting the ground with her feet. She landed on all four and started gasping for air, coughing as blood was pouring from her open mouth. He knees hurt, as they were the first to impact the soil. Kyra looked up, gasping for air and saw the rogue with his blade at the cultist's neck, his arm around her chest in a dead lock. The caster's mouth was bleeding, a sight that the troll hit her before, with a swift kick most likely. The hooded elf looked dizzy.

"Took you long enough..." Kyra mumbled, getting up, trying to clean her dusty armor.

"This be one of your'?" Roh'khin nodded towards the cultist he was holding.

Kyra spat some blood on the ground, and went closer to the hooded figure that the rogue was holding captive. She slowly removed the hood from the elf, and shook her head, a sad smile spreading on to her features.

"Ishnu'Allah, Alyre. Lost again?"Kyra said in Darnassae.

Alyre's eyes went wide with horror. She started squirming, trying to escape from the troll's grasp, but he was stronger than her. So she tried another path, answering in Darnassae as well.

"Sister, they are all plotting against us...They've captured me, and Tyrande, and forced us to..." The green haired elf spoke, her words rushed, tears in her eyes, a mad expression on her face.

"Stop, Alyre. Spare yourself the embarrassment. Where is Tyrande?" Kyra's voice was steady.

"I don't know...No, please sister...You know me for so many years...Spare me..."

Kyra yelled, her voice booming in the forest silence:

"Oh, for the love of Elune...Shut up! Stop lying!"

Alyre brows went up, and the fear from before disappeared . He features lit up and a content smirk appeared on her face.

"Kyra Moongaze, you will get nothing for me" she shifted to Common.. "You've made an oath, remember? Now on your long list of slips, a new one was added – siding with the Horde...If there was a chance for you to redeem yourself, now it is lost. You lost. Believe me, I will get out of here alive to tell the story..."

Before she was finished, Kyra's fist connected with her jaw at a surprising speed, knocking her from the rogue's arms, on to the ground. Her instinct took over, there was no turning back, and she roared. Her vision became dark, her adrenaline levels at their peak, her anger taking over. Blood pooled in Alyre's mouth, and it spilled on the ground in crimson drops. Kyra leaped on top of her, before Roh'khin could react, she withdrew her fist and punched her again, this time harder. And again. And again. She kept hitting her fast until the troll grabbed her by the waist and threw her though the air, away from Alyre, like her weight was nothing. She hit the ground and a gasp escaped her lips.

The impact broke her focus. Her breath was short, arms shaking from the adrenaline rush paired with anger she felt earlier. She rose up and looked at the woman on the ground. Her face was swollen, her lips cracked, blood vessels popped out under her skin. Her chest was moving up slowly, as she was trying to breathe, a wheezing sound coming out of her mouth. She was laying there like a useless meat suit, with her face smashed and her body contorted from pain. The troll was crouched next to her, checking her pulse or any life signals.

"Ya' almost killed 'er. Dat was not the plan." Roh'khin looked at her with angry eyes.

Kyra took a glance at her bloody knuckles, the realization of what she could've done washing over her like a cold shower. She tried to apologize, but the words got stuck in her throat.

"You and yo' pride, elf..." the troll mumbled, while trying to tie Alyre down. "Pray for a grain o' sanity left in dat mushy brain now..."

She stood there, looking at her hands. They were dirty with sand and blood, one glove was missing. No wonder it hurt her knuckle before when she hit Alyre.

"Don' stay there, tie the otha' one" the troll's voice rumbled like thunder, and he threw her some ropes. She quickly caught them, and proceeded to tie the human cultist.

They've tied them both on opposite sides of the tree. Roh'khin took from his backpack a small jar with some concoction, and approached the human with it. He slowly brought the content to the human nose. The male slowly opened his eyes, shook his head and mumbled something. When his gaze met the troll's face he froze. He tried to run, only to realize that he was tied up. His mouth started to form a spell, but a small hand covered his mouth. His eyes looked at the one that was stopping his spell, and he started screaming.

Kyra's glove was coated in poison. One that would not kill, but it would bring great pain. The cultists muffled cries and tears did not move any of the pair.

"Now listen."Kyra started, her voice calm."I've tortured your kind before, and judging by the look on your face, you know that very well. So you have to options. One: You are going to tell me where you took Tyrande and why. For that you blink once. Two: You are going to die a horrible, horrible death, for that blink twice. I am giving you a choice."

The human eyes became pooled with tears, his face contorted and red. He blinked twice. Kyra puffed, and took her hand from his mouth. His lips were swollen, covered in pustules, red circles around them. She took the small dagger from the ground, and with one swift motion, bore the blade underneath his index fingernail, blood pouring out of the loose attachement. The human yelled in pain, but his cries were once again blocked but her gloved hand. He looked at her, with crazy eyes and blinked twice again.

Kyra took the blade again, and smiled, looking in his eyes. She dipped the blade in what appeared to be a flask of poison, and slowly started cutting at his chest. The cultists yelled again, his lips cracking, as she was slicing at his ribcage in steady motions. The blade was dull on purpose, and the pain was greater than he anticipated. A chunk of his skin became loose, and flesh was exposed at the cool night air. The cultist blinked once and fainted.

Kyra smiled and looked satisfied at the troll. His expression was unwavering. He crouched next to her, and brought the container to the human nostrils. The cultists woke up, trying to breathe, his eyes hazy, tears rolling down his eyes when he met the elf's gaze.

"Once..."he mumbled with his deformed mouth, drawing quick breaths "I blinked once...."

"So?" Kyra said, approaching him with her dagger

"We took Tyrande...We had help. Traitors in your ranks. We could not otherwise...Took all of us to do it...She is strong. She is going to be...one of us. Plan. Greater than life..."

"Where?" The troll asked approaching, his voice cold

The humans eyes went wide with fear, his chest was trembling up and down from the short breaths he was taking.

"Rune...here, on the ground" he motioned towards the place they were before."We have another on our chests. You need three. You get there. Other plane. Not our world"

"Who else helped you?" Kyra asked, dangerously approaching the poisoned glove to his mouth.

"No...please!"the cultists pleaded."No more...I will tell you..."

A faint whisper was heard, and before they knew, the cultist burst in green flames, screams flying from his lungs." Reborn! Undead! Great honor!" he yelled, as the flames engulfed him. Smoke rose from the body, chocking them, filling the air with black waves. She retreated back, and pulled the rogues by his vest with her.Without warning, Roh'khin jumped back on the burning human body, the flames melting his skin in the process. He released a terrifying roar, and Kyra pulled him back.

"Are you insane?!What are you doing?!"she yelled at him, pushing at his chest.

"Remembered ta' rune..." He said, holding his burned hand, a contorted smile on his face. On his blue skin, small pustules could be seen bursting. "I 'ave bandages. I'm a troll, I' be fine" He added, and went towards his backpack.

A loud coarse laugh made them both to freeze. They looked at the tree and saw Alyre with her swollen face, her head resting on the tree bark. Her green hair was messy and coated with blood and leafs.

"Look at you two...So interesting to see two traitors on one side...My master will have both of your heads for trespassing...Do you think you can win this war? We and the undead are more powerful than ever before. We have a new master, and he is patient. Oh, so patient. Tyrande was just the beginning. Our time is now. You two have a choice...Join us, or die. In both cases, you will join us..."she mumbled, her breath whizzy.

Kyra quickly took one of the flasks from her pouch, and poured it in to Alyre's left eye, mercilessly. Her eye started to swell, the burning sensation building up, and the spellcaster screamed, only to get her mouth covered with her poisoned gloved hand. The flesh from green haired woman's eye melted, emanating a foul smell. Kyra took the dagger from the ground, and with a swift motion, cut Alyre's throat. Blood gushed out, smearing her face and plate armor, but Kyra did not flinch. She looked Alyre in her eyes, as life was leaving them, and whispered through her clenched jaw.

"No. I will live to tell the story..."

Alyre's eyes went dark as she was chocking with her own blood, her body growing limp. Kyra looked as life was leaving the night elf's body, and a content smile spread across her features.

Kyra rose up to her feet and looked at the troll. Roh'khin was staring at her, pure concern in his gaze, and she realized that her eyes looked mad. He was doubting her.

"Let me see the burn" she said and approached him.

He took a step back, and she stopped. She exhaled loudly. He rolled his eyes and outstretched his arm, and she took his hand in hers. The wound was not big, not threatening, but it could interfere with his fighting skills. The palm was burned, but it did not spread to the wrist. She cupped his big palm with her other hand.

"I hate to do this..." she mumbled, and a small ray of light flowed from her hands, stinging him. He looked at her stunned. His wound was closing when the trickle of light was over, blisters were almost gone. "Not even close to what a healer could do, but if you wrap your hand in bandages, you should be fine" she added, smiling. Roh'khin just stared at her open mouthed, not knowing what to say, he looked confused.

"How?" he asked, when his thoughts came back to him.

She said nothing, turned around and went to inspect the rune Alyre was wearing on her chest.

******************************************************************

They both were sitting down, next to the portal place, drawing runes on their arms with coal. They did not look at each other. He had his hand bandaged, but the burn did not hurt anymore. She healed him somehow, and he didn't dare to ask how she learned that.

She stopped the drawing and broke the silence:

"Well, this is it, I think. " Kyra said .She looked at her left arm, a rune sketched with burned coal resting on her wrist and exhaled loudly.

"How is yours?" she looked at the troll that was inspecting, preoccupied, his own rune on his forearm.

Roh'khin looked at her and extended his arm.

"Mine be horrible".

She curiously looked at it, and suddenly burst in to laughter. The rune was bad. It had crooked lines and looked like something a five year old could drew it with his toes. The cascade of her amusement made her eyes fill with tears. She slowly composed herself, surprised by her sudden change of emotion. She looked at the troll and saw the confusion on his features.

"Did not know ya' could laugh...".

Her smile faded slowly. She quickly turned her gaze away from his face to the rune.

"I think it will work" she said in a rushed tone. "I bet they are no painters either, so for now, it will do."

"Good" he mumbled.

"Now go an' undress that dead elf."

"What?"she blinked, blankly starring at him

The troll caught her look and rolled his eyes.

"We need a disguise. You need ta' dress in dat robe."

She looked confused for a moment, her eyes darting from the elf's corpse to the troll. She shook her head and snapped at him.

"And why I am the one to dress ?"

"Because the robes don' fit me, man..." the rogue mumbled.

He was right and she was acting stupid. She puffed and went to Alyre's corpse. The white skinned elf's eyes were open, their light gone. The were white and empty, and she felt her stomach clench. Her face was contorted in a horrified expression, sticky blood still covering her neck. A foul stench emanated from the body, and she turned her head in disgust, covering her mouth.

"Turn around" she said towards the rogue.

The rogue turned his back at her , tossed aside the piece of coal, and walked towards the portal place.

Kyra unlaced the robes from the corpse. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. Underneath the robes Alyre had sentinel mail armor, with the symbol and all. She tossed the body aside, and drew the robe. The clothing was smeared with blood and dirt, which made the process harder. Kyra pushed the corpse on her belly and rose up, with the garment in her hand. She put it on, and to her surprise it fit her perfectly. She placed the hood on her head, and walked towards the rogue. She felt uncomfortable, like she was on a dressing contest of some sorts.

He looked at her and a shuddered.

"They fit ya' like a glove"

"I will kill you" she mumbled through her teeth.

He shook his head and crouched. With his left hand slowly removed the leafs from the ground, revealing the hidden rune. He stopped his movements, and stared at the ground in front of him.

"We might not get back, ya' know that?"

There were two or more seconds of silence and stillness. They both knew what it meant. She did not answer, and he did not insist. She simply stepped on , closer to him, and raised her arm with the rune. He did the same. The ground around them started to shake, the images around becoming a blur. She tried to steady her body, arms outstretched, her eyes darting from side to side to see the troll's reaction. But to her surprise, in front of her was nothing. She saw no one. She was alone. Panic started to overwhelm her, but her mind was cold and firm. All of the sudden, a black circle formed in front of her, smoke curves that looked like hands were pulling her in a black spiral and she felt like her very soul was ripped from her body.

In that vortex, everything was black. She was falling at an amazing speed, sparks of light from time to time were visible. She brought her hands to her face and she could not see them. Something inside her was fighting this teleport, and she felt pain. Her entire body felt like it was about to explode.

A strong arm gripped her waist, steadying her. _"Feet upfront! Flex your knees!"_ a now familiar voice resounded in her head, and she tried to do as she was told _."I will faint"_ she responded, feeling weak, as the spark of light inside her was battling the darkness that was surrounding them both. _"I'm here"_ the troll voice sounded assuring, and with her last bit of strength she gripped the arm around her waist, pulled her feet in front of her, releasing a pained cry.

A loud thud, and she felt the ground, barely conscious. The troll landed behind her, still holding her close to him. She released herself from his arms, and stepped forward. Stumbling a few feet, she balanced herself, and let out a breath she did not know she was holding.

She looked around. _"Felwood"_ she thought. The sky was also dark, and the air thick, which meant one thing: they were still in that unknown plain. Nausea overwhelmed her, her head started spinning, small beads of sweat forming on her forehead and her stomach clenched. She quickly removed her faceguard, feeling the bile from her gut raising up. She leaned forward and threw up. After spilling her vomit on the forest ground, she got up and unceremoniously wiped her mouth.

"I have water" the troll's voice resonated behind her. He could hear his steps getting closer. She wiped her sweat from her forehead and spat on the ground. With tired eyes she turned around to face him. He was standing there, holding a skin filled with water. He looked concerned.

"Thank you." she murmured, and brought the container to her lips, drinking thirstily. The cool liquid caressed her throat . She closed her eyes, drinking greedily, gulping from the container. She chocked, and started coughing, spilling the precious elixir on the ground.

Kyra sat down, trying to compose herself. The troll crouched next to her. She drew a deep breath:

"I need a second, then I'll be fine."

The troll looked at her concerned. He slowly inspected her movement, her face, her reactions. It was obvious for her that he thought she would jeopardize their mission.

"I used to train as a priestess...I still have a spark of light inside me...It fights whatever is...this thing... That's why I ..." she bent over and vomited again.

He shook his head, and put one hand on her shoulder.

"Might be worst when we get dere...This ting...Ya sure ya can handle it?"

She wiped her mouth, and drank greedily from the flask. He retracted his hand. She rinsed her mouth and spat on the ground. With a steady voice and a cold stare she uttered:

"I can handle it. What's your plan?"

"Keep ya' head cool. We interrogate one of them. We find Tyrande. We get her back. With her help, we kill their leadah."

She smiled. It sounded so easy and simple. Like an everyday chore.

"We are mad, aren't we?" she sighted, looking in the distance.

"Yes" he answered, shaking his head.

"No matter what happens, it was nice seeing you. I want you to know that..." she added in a strange tone. She turned her gaze to him.

He inhaled. His usual steady gaze was flickering from her face to the distance.

"Was nice seeing ya' too. Was nice seeing ya' laugh for once"

Her jaw dropped slightly, and her gaze found the ground.

"Yes. It was nice." She whispered , words getting stuck in her throat.

"Let's go!" he whispered and jumped up, offering his hand to help her stand up. She refused his help with a short gesture, and rose up on her own.

The walked cautiously, paying close attention to any shift or movement of the surroundings. The place looked awfully alike with the real Felwood, except for the lack of sounds and occasional fauna. So far, they did not encountered the invisible walls, which was a good sign. They slowly climbed on a hill, the high ground was a good place for spotting the enemy. Once they got there, without warning, the troll stopped and crouched, motioning for her to do the same. He pointed far in the distance, on the left, where inside the perimeter of some elven ruins, a couple of silhouettes could be seen roaming around.

What was left of the old building was covered in what appeared to be green moss. the old walls partially destroyed, the ceiling missing. Two cave entrances were visible on each side of the ruins, a green light emanating from them. She counted three shapes moving around the place, probably the sentinels. She looked at the troll and he was staring, his eyes full of doubt and concern.

"Might be a trap" his low voice echoed in the silence. Kyra looked at him with a blank stare and smiled. "I don't care", she answered."I will still kill every single one of them".

The troll sighed and shook his head.

"I have an invisibility potion, if you want to get past them with ease" he said, "No, that's your thing" she responded coldly. He nodded in agreement, and melted in to shadows. _"Your turn. "_ she heard him in her head.

She reached out to her belt, and took her faceguard that was hooked there. She carefully placed it on her face, tied it firmly on the back of her head. She pulled the hood once more over her features and straightened her back. Kyra exhaled, her grip tightened on the hilts of her swords, underneath her robes, and started walking towards the ruins on the main road.

She was still at distance, but with a few careful moves, she could charge into them. She could see them clearly, and soon they saw her. A night elf male, his long ears were sticking out of his hood, a traitorous mark of his heritage was the closest one to the entrance. Farther away were what appeared to be two females, their small frame was a clear sign. _"Wait!"_ she heard in her head. _"Traps at the entrance. Disarming now. Also, protective spells. Distract them. Go"._

"Help me..."she yelled in Darnassian, stumbling, collapsing on the ground. "They've killed the human...They are coming for Tyrande!"she crawled slowly towards the ruins, keeping her head low.

The cultists looked at her, none of them moving an inch. The two female prepared them self for a spell, as she could tell. The night elf male gestured towards them to stop.

"Did they followed you?" he asked in Common, the deep voice of the male shortening the distance.

"No, they did not. I killed the Sentinel! I need to see the master! It's an urgent issue " she got in all fours, at the entrance.

The male nodded and made a short gesture in the air, and the magic defenses were lifted from the place.

"Landris! You cannot do this ! "the female behind him whispered. "She could bring more, or be a traitor!" she continued. He shushed her , and motioned Kyra to step in.

"I am in charge here, you listen to me! And don't ever use my name again!" He retorted towards the female, that withdrew few steps back, her head bowed.

Kyra checked with her hand on the ground if the wards were still in place, and smiled when she was assured they were gone. She rose to her feet and stepped in .

"Where do I find the master?" she said and removed her cowl.

The night elf froze. Fear and panic spread on his face. And he stepped back, mumbling a spell.

Kyra smirked and pulled her swords in one swift motion, her hands placed firmly on their hilts. The sound was picked up by the elf, his long ears twitching, but it was too late to avoid the hit. She did not hesitate. Before he could react, the blades were planted in his chest, and pulled back with a swift motion. The cultist collapsed with a loud thud.

A hot wave of air pushed her far in the distance, making her gasp, ramming her frame in to the building wall with a loud thump. She fell down, and looked back at the cultist who cast the spell. The female spellcaster did not hesitate to cast a new one, the magic words spewing from her mouth. She raised her arms up, and Kyra's blades fell down, as her arms grew limp. But in mere seconds she saw the cultists eyes grow wide, as a dagger slit her throat open. The troll frame materialized mid air, and he pushed the dying female down.The female collapsed, chocking on her own blood.

Kyra looked at the third one, and the female was crouched, shaking. She leaped towards her, and the female screamed. Kyra quickly covered her mouth with her hand, pinning her to the wall.

"Shhh." The warrior whispered.

The human female looked terrified. Tears were streaming from her wild eyes, and Kyra could feel that she was shacking beyond control.

"Easy now. " Kyra cooed. "Now, do you want to live?"she got closer to the cultists face.

The female nodded her head frantically in agreement.

"Then you will tell me two things: where is _Tyrande_ , and where is your _master_?"Kyra added, emphasizing on purpose _Tyrande_ and _Master,_ and action which seemed to make the cultist shake even strongly."I'm going to remove my hand, slowly. If you scream, this rogue right there will cut your throat open, just like he did with your friend. You understand?"

The cultist nodded, and Kyra removed her hand. The woman simply collapsed on the ground and gasped for air.

"Down bellow, in the cave. Step on the rune." The female said, her breath short. "Please, spare me!" she got on her knees at Kyra's feet, cupping her ankles, her head bowed.

"Agh...Disgusting" Kyra spat at the kneeling frame, tried to kick her with her foot. To her surprise, she could not move her leg, like it was glued to the ground. She tried to move, and looked down, only to see a rune drawn on the dirt. She felt a burning sensation.Her foot started smoking, and to her horror she realized she was set on fire. The flames made themselves visible fast, and she tried desperately to free herself, pulling her leg up.

The cultists rolled over, and leaped on her feet, smirking. A dagger was quickly pressed on her neck as te rogue was behind her in one swift move.

"Release her!" his voice sounded like thunder.

"I will not" the cultist added, her voice shaking, her eyes mad "You can kill me, filthy mongrel. I will be reborn in the master's name! You will never this honor, you heretic!"she spat in front of her, on the ground.

"I heard that the spell dies with it's caster" Roh'khin hissed. The cultists eyes went wide, and in mere seconds he slit her throat open, and pushed her on the ground with disgust.

The flames disappeared in an instant, and inertia made Kyra fall on her belly. She quickly rose up, and violently pushed the rogue.

"How did you know that the spell dies with it's caster, you idiotic hot headed punk?!"

"I guessed!" The troll uttered, irritated, and pushed her back, tolling his frame over her.

"I could've died!"she yelled, pushing him again. He grabbed her head with his palm, and pushed her away. He locked his angry eyes with hers.

" But ya' didn't! Now shut up!"

She stormed past him, pushing his shoulder, to gather her swords. She grabbed them, and sudden weakness in her legs, made her fall to her knees.

"To think I could've died in such a stupid manner..." she mumbled, and cupped her face with her palms, her hands were shaking.

"You have ta' trust me, elf."

His words made her shoulders sink . He was right. He might be hotheaded, but she was too. And none of them wished harm for the other, at least for now. She sighed, and rose up, facing him.

"We don't have much time. She said something about that rune."Kyra pointed towards a formation of bushes.

"It's not enough that dey are in anotha realm, they are also underground, those rats... I hate caves..." the troll rolled his eyes, and breathed out heavily. She smiled and shook her head.

"Here we go...again" she stepped close to the rune, and motioned for him to get too. The troll hesitated, but then started slowly to approach her.

"Hold ma' hand" he said, and outstretched his arm "So you won't faint again, like before"

"I'll be fine...Thank you."she assured him, and refused his gesture.

"I'm sorry, then.." he said in an even tone.

"Why..."

He quickly leaped and grabbed her waist, knocking the air from her lungs, and jumped on the rune. Her eyes went wide and before she could say anything, the world around her started to fade.


	7. Chapter 7

They floated for a brief moment, and when they hit ground, she did not feel the impact. Her feet were in air, dangling. Before she had time to protest or realize what happened, Roh'khin gently placed her on the ground. She turned her face towards him, ready to unleash a cascade of insults, but he brought his finger to his lips, motioning her to keep it quiet. He pointed at the walls and she turned around.

She slowly looked up. They were in an underground tunnel, dug there who knows from what times. The stone walls were dark in color, arched towards the floor and curved towards the ceiling. The poignant smell of stale water was lingering in the air. Occasional fall of droplets were disturbing the silence surrounding them. It would've been pitch dark, if not for a flickering red light somewhere in the distance. The floor was wet, easy to trip if you were not careful. A choir of voices were chanting something in the distance, the sound echoing eerily through the stones.

Roh'khin tapped her shoulder twice, and motioned her to move towards the voices, while cautiously advancing. She took one step, and the sound of it echoed so loud, it made them both freeze, their eyes darting around, for anyone that might caught their intrusion. He turned towards her with murderous stare, and she pointed, helpless, at her plate boots. He rolled his eyes, and pointed at his feet, showing her that he was tip toeing. She puffed, and stepped like he instructed her,. To their both relief, the sound was not loud at all.

They walked some time, cautiously , towards the sound and light, the view not changing one bit on the way, except for the fact that the voices where getting closer and closer. After what appeared to be an eternity, at one turn, in front of them, like a gaping mouth, was an enormous entrance to a chamber, filled with red glow, from which a loud chant could he heard.

They both stepped back. He nodded towards her robe, and she curled her lip. Kyra placed the hood of the dress on her head and stepped towards the entrance. The rogue slipped in to shadows.

 _"Same as before"_ she heard in her head. She nodded in response, knowing that he could see her. Kyra walked slowly and entered the room, preparing heself for the same act she did earlier, with the sentinels.

What she saw, made her stop, and it felt like her heart missed a beat. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she restrained herself from gasping out loud.

The enormous room was filled to the brim with cultists. It had a tall ceiling and generous walls, adorned with thousand of lit candles. All kinds of races were there. Hundreds, maybe more. They were all chanting, slowly moving, like they shared one brain. They were arranged in circles, from a bigger one, to smaller and smaller towards the center. The ones in the middle, were chanting the loudest. The light was dim, which made her blending in easier, given the fact that they would not see her blood stained robe.

Up in a cage adorned with spells and enchants, suspended from chains that were keeping it mid-air from all four sides was Tyrande. Her mass of green hair spilled through the cage bars, and her feet dangling mid air. Her arms were chained, and her legs also. She looked like she was sleeping, or was unconscious. Around her frame was a light aura, a faint luminous shield that protected her, that all of the cultists gathered there were trying to break. But her messy hair and her tattered dress showed that she was fighting before.

"What is this ? Who are you?" a whisper came from behind her, and a cold grasp engulfed her, cold, invisible fingers enveloped around her neck, chocking her lungs. _"A voidwalker guardian!"_ she punched herself mentally for her slip in attention. She was slowly lifted from the ground, and slammed in to near by wall. The hit was attenuated by her plate armor, but the invisible foe kept her pinned to the stones. She started suffocating, desperately trying to break free, moving erratically her free hands, but all around her was nothing.

"Endu'di Rifa!"

The strong, familiar voice of Tyrande resonated across the tunnel, and a shock wave of warm light pushed Kyra away from entrance. She rose up, using the wall as support, gasping for air and stepped carefully. No sign of the guardian could be felt. She exhaled relieved. She composed herself and looked cautiously inside the room, from behind the wall.

The cultists were scattered on the ground. By the looks of it, some of them were dead, some were trying to get up. A general commotion could be seen, chaos installing itself in the room. Rich, orange flames were rising from the dead bodies, burning them to ash. Tyrande's frame was lit up by a yellow glow, but Kyra could tell she was tired. Her chest was rising in shaky, uneven breaths. The enchantments around her cage making her weak. But most important, she was alive. The power she possessed amazed Kyra. Even in this weakened state, it took hundreds of cultists to take her down, and still she managed to kill a quarter of them.

She heard a eerie noise behind her, and turned around quickly. Three portals were opening in front of her, and a dozen of cultists were stepping through.

 _" Go! Blend in. Now!"_ she heard in her head. She quickly aligned herself with the row of cultists that were marching towards the entrance and stepped in the room along with them.

The new comers took the dead bodies, and started dragging them towards what appeared to be the altar of the room, in the center of it. She quickly grabbed the body of a human male, and started doing the same.

Behind the altar she could see a hooded figure, taller than the average participant at the ritual. By the looks of his decorated robes, she could tell he was their leader. She was so close to him, that with ease could plant her swords in his unsuspecting chest. But that could mean her death, or worse, Tyrande's death. She could tell that he was an troll, his long tusks sticking out from his cowl. He has his back turned at the altar, an alchemy stand in front of him, where vials and small bottles were resting. His long white hands were preoccupied with a couple of white glowing vials. He was opening them , and pouring in to his hands while mumbling a spell. He was not paying attention to the new comers, a proof that this was not the first time this has happened. But he was not a Darkspear, she could tell, his height and skin color betrayed him.

 _"Drakkari..."_ she heard in her head and froze. The troll in front of her was a proud member of a now Northrend tribe, long lost and forgotten. She knew that they had no interest in magic or knowledge, that they were ruthless, cruel and barbaric warriors. So what was one of them doing by leading a cult?

"Continue the ritual! Take your places!" He spoke in perfect common.

The entire room started moving to form the circles that she saw before, and she hurried to do the same. She sat next to a male night elf, pulling her hood even more, so he could not recognize her.

 _"Where are you?"_ she asked.

 _"Up."_ She heard the answer in her thoughts. Kyra raised her eyes towards the ceiling, and saw the enormous chains that were holding the cage, dangling slightly, without drawing attention. He was walking towards the priestess, risking his life by choosing to climb at such great height.

"The priestess will be reborn in the master's name" their leader screamed, his voice booming and strong, sending a shiver down her spine. She lowered her head, and with care inspected once more the hilts of her swords. They were there, waiting for her to act.

 _"Three...two...one...Cover your ears"_ she heard in her head, and quickly brought both hands to her head. She could see the surprised look of the night elf next to her, and she looked him in the eyes, a wave o terror spreading across his features, as he recognized her in an instant. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but right when he was about to do so, a small, white smoking object fell between them, and Kyra leaped on the right side, as far away from it as she could.

A loud boom could be heard, strong as close proximity thunder, reverberating through the walls of the room, projecting a dozen of the cultists through the air, like rag dolls, smiting their bodies on the cave stones. Right after the first, a second one fell, louder than the first, a blinding flash dismantling their ranks once more. The blast took her by surprise, and she jumped on the ground, covering her head. The noise caused chaos among cultists, and filled the chamber with white smoke and desperate screams.

She could hear a ringing in her ears, even though she covered them. She shook her head, and hooded her eyes. She slowly got up, trying not to inhale the smoke, taking short breaths.

"What is this disturbance?! Seize them!" she heard the Drakkari voice faintly through the smoke filled area. A thud behind her made her turn on her heels, swords at ready. _"It's me!"_ she heard in her thoughts. She stepped a few feet forward, until she could barely see his frame. He was still in stealth, but this served to their advantage. She turned away from him, with her back pressed against his. Her eyes could see through the dense smoke a couple of disoriented silhouettes, roaming around in search for them. She could hear their whispers, and they were casting spells, aimed towards them. But the dense smoke curtain confused them, and she could tell, they were sometimes hit each other. She let the robe fall down from her body, and crouched her frame. Her grip tightened on the hilts of her swords, and she drew them in one swift motion.

"See you on the other side..." she whispered, grinning.

"See ya on the otha' side"..." he answered in a low voice

Two cultists got way to close, one to the left, and one to the right, and she aimed her blows towards them and with a roar, she swung her blades, cutting with her both swords at the same time, opening wounds and carving through flesh. They collapsed at her feet, and she kicked them aside. More came, and she rotated in a quick whirlwind , with her weapons outstretched, plunging them into one 's body, cutting a second one's neck. She only wounded the third one, and he cast a shadow bolt, that hit her leg. Kyra lost balance for a brief moment, the spell carving through her armor, burning her skin, and she landed in one knee. She hissed at the spell caster, as it hurt and that made her angry. The cultist fell down, with blood gurgling from his throat, as the rogue was quick to react, gouging the attacker. The smoke was wearing off, and they had little time.

He helped her get up, and they repositioned themselves back to back. She could hear his short breaths, and saw three bodies in front of him. She felt something wet trickling on her neck. She looked at the troll. To her horror, Roh'khin had a open wound on his back, blood pouring from it. But he did not seem to mind, or pay any attention to it. She looked around, and her body tensed. A circle of cultists was gradually forming around them, getting closer and closer, and he slowly slipped in to shadows. The element of surprise was still on their side.

She saw several hands around her, lighting with unholy glow, and crouched down just in time. Bolts of shadow flew around her, hitting their own, curses uttered in all languages Azeroth had and known. She charged towards the one in front of her, and plunged her right sword in the cultists belly. She swung her head, and hit him in the face with her forehead., removing her sword. Not losing momentum, she threw her left sword, and the weapon flew straight towards a second one, sinking in his throat, impaling the one behind him also. She was quick to retrieve her weapon, when a hot bolt, hit her chest. She got projected into a group of cultists, her weight and speed toppling them. She rose up, her ribcage was hurting, making it hard to breathe, her chestpiece had a hole in it, but luckily for her, the skin was only slightly burned. She could see casters dying, falling down like fleas, throats being cut, arteries opened, the rogue being fast in his killings, gouging the enemy without remorse. She could see he was bleeding also, had cuts,burns and wounds all over his body.

The sight of it fueled her rage and anger. Her veins started pumping adrenaline in to her veins, the thrill of battle getting the best of her. She released a battle roar, and launched herself in the middle of the enemy ranks. She started fighting left and right, hitting with her swords mercilessly, blood and pained cries filling the room. They casted spells at her, but she did not feel them, nor she flinched. Her eyes were kindled by anger, her lips in a thin line, spreading death upon the army of cultists. She was wreaking havoc, killing some of them, smearing her armor with blood. Her swords were crimson, flesh and skin dangling from their blades., her breath even.With the corner of her eye, she could see some of them fleeing and she smiled. She was prepared to charge into another group, when a burst of pain took over her body, numbing her. Waves of agony made the torment greater, as her heart started beating slower, and slower. She dropped her swords and fell to her knees. With what remained of her strength her gaze searched for her companion, the rogue. He was laying down, few feet from her, palms on the ground, his face contorted by pain, trying to get up.

"Enough!" she heard the Drakkari troll's voice.

The cultists quickly retreated to the edges of the room, leaving them in the center. Through her misery, she heard footsteps approaching.

"My, my...What do we have here..." the leader smiled, revealing his long, sharp teeth. He made a short gesture, and their bodies were lifted swiftly in the air. He slowly made them spin mid air, so they could face him. He removed his hood, exposing to the view a deformed head. He was bald, his long ears sticking out pointy, his skeletal features making them look even longer than they were. His head had an ugly scab that covered most of it, rotten flesh covering where his hairline had been. He got scalped in the past. His face was adorned with ritualistic tattoos, making him look fierce. His eyes were crimson, his lips curled in a snarl. He inspected their hanging frames, and looked Kyra up and down, pacing slowly around her, hands behind his back.

"Kyra Moongaze, as I can recall. Your reputation precedes you, little one. Strong willed, and stubborn as they come. A priest, a warrior, a warden or a demon hunter? I bet you don't even know what you are, or where you belong...A foolish gesture to come here, but brave, nonetheless. You came here ar a mighty rescuer? Your leader is strong , very powerfull" he pointed towards the suspended body of Tyrande "She will be the perfect vessel for our leader. You, on the other hand, will have the great honor of being reborn in the Master's name! But I must admit, your fighting skills are exceptional, matched only by the cruelty of trolls. Speaking of which..." his gaze fell upon the rogue, a content smile on his face "Honnah, Roh'khin fon... obeah mal yuutee, otha e’ko?"[1] he uttered in Zandali.

Roh'khin hissed at him, the pain being hard to ignore, and with great effort, spat through his teeth: "T'ief godehsi wha, quashi Bwon'tulak".[2]

A thunderous roar erupted from Roh'khin's lungs, spreading through the tunnel halls, as the necromancer put his hand on the trolls chest. Kyra watched helplessly, as she could not do anything but watch. She felt powerless, and tried to think about any solutions, but her brain was shut down. And the pain was growing in waves. The agony of the spell was eating her flesh, burning her soul. The only solution was to make the cult leader to focus on her.

"Stop it, you mad cave lizard! I spit on you and your master!" Kyra yelled, gasping, and spat towards the troll. The cult leader turned his head quickly, and a mad flare traveled across his face. He removed his hand from the troll, and pressed his dirty palm on her forehead, baring his teeth.

A shot of pain, greater than before plunged in to her mind. She screamed so loud, that she felt her throat sore. Her thoughts became hazy, as the Drakkari troll bore in her head with his spell. The veins in her temples popped out, almost like they were ready to pierce her skin, but she resisted. She tried to focus her mind on the mental link she had with the troll, when a new shock arrow stung her brain. She screamed again, this time controlling her breath, sinking her chin in to her chest in a desperate attempt to resist. Her vision became red, as blood vessels popped in her left eye.

"Anu'dora!!!"she heard, barely conscious.

Kyra saw the Drakkari thrown like a rag doll in to the near by wall. She felt the binding spell subside, and her body hit the ground, and her head hit it first. She heard a crack in her temples, her skull kissed the ground harder than she expected. He vision became blurred, and she tried to get up. A pair of hands helped her stand up. She looked back and saw the rogue on his feet, a slim string of blood dripping from his ear on to his neck. He looked tired and drained. He held her upright just to make sure that she could stand on her own, nodded, and melted in to shadows.

Kyra looked up, still dizzy, and saw Tyrande. The view made her jaw drop. The priestess was slowly descending, floating mid air, a glowing yellow light surrounding her. Her green hair was crowning her head in beautiful cascades, and her eyes held such serenity, that it was hard not to get mesmerized by them. Her hands were outstretched, rays of light emitting from them, lighting the room with a pleasant warmth. The cultists that survived the holy smite, were hiding in the room's corners, cowering before her power. In this state, they could do nothing against her. Tyrande was free of her bindings.The troll was quick before to erase the enchantments that held the priestess moments before.

The leader of the casters, rose up, only to get smitten again against the wall several times, until his frame fell down, limp. In that moment, from the ground, out of thin air, holy shackles appeared, freezing the Drakkari bloody form in one place. His followers went out screaming in horror, stumbling on the corpses that lay down, scattered, as few of them survived her spell.

Tyrande landed next to Kyra, and at the sight of the warrior, a gasp escaped her lips.

"Moongaze...Where is Shandris?" she asked, concern in her voice

"She is not here, High Priestess..." Kyra mumbled, bowing her head. Tyrande's eyes widened in horror, and Kyra added hastily "But she is alive, I said I will come after you. I made that call. In case I did not survive, she will be alive and well, so we will have a fair leader for our people"

Tyrande planted a hand gently on her shoulder and smiled.

"You've made a good call, Moongaze. I must say I am impressed, and slightly curious." She added while looking at the pile of corpses around the room, her gaze falling upon their unconscious leader." How did you break the enchantments from the cage?"

"I had help, High Priestess" Kyra propped her body on the cave wall, as she was getting dizzy. "But you won't like it" she added in Common, and locked her eyes with the priestess, smiling ironically.

Tyrande's eyes went dark, and she stepped closer to the warrior, her eyelids slightly dropped. Her left hand started glowing again, as anger flared only briefly on the priestess features.

"What did you do, Moongaze?"she said in Common too, her voice sounded menacing.

"Nothing. I just had help. He broke the enchantments." Kyra retorted and rolled her eyes, the pain from her head getting stronger.

"He?" Tyrande's eyebrow went up

"Dat will be me, High Priestess. Roh'khin of tha' Darkspear."

The troll frame materialized before her eyes with his both arms up, showing that he was unarmed, and he bowed his head before the priestess. Tyrande quickly turned on her heels and started casting a spell towards the rogue.

"Stop it!" Kyra leaped in front of the rogue, shielding him with her body, earning a furious glare from the priestess.

 _"Crazy!What are ya' doin'?"_ his voice echoed in her mind, but she simply shook her head.

"He saved my life, and he saved yours! Are allegiances that important now?!Look at all the bodies on the floor, High Priestess. Look at them! More than half of them is his doing! AND LOOK AT US! Did we not suffer enough ?"

The warrior gaze turned crimson, her breath erratic, her fists clenched on the hilts of her weapons. It was the first time when she stood up to Tyrande, and the moment brought an overwhelming satisfaction that washed over her mind. The Priestess's eyes were narrowed, anger darting in them, which she wasn't even trying to mask. Tyrande's gaze inspected them both, her frame still, prepared to attack.

They both looked miserable. Kyra had blood trickling from her left eye, her neck bruised, a hole in her chest piece, her armor cracked, multiple cuts, scratches and wounds all over her body where the plate was missing. Her legs were shaking, and she put her entire effort in standing upright. Bun marks where scattered all over her garment. Her swords were at ready, but she could barely stand. As her body was moving slowly from side to side.

Behind her, Roh'khin was bleeding from his ears, his eyes were swollen, his face stained with congealed blood. His knuckles were full of blood, his armor tattered. But his stance did not betray any hostility, any anger or hatred. He just stood there, waiting for the priestess next move. Tyrande's eyes went wide, as her gaze stopped at the trolls neck, where a glowing vial, on a slim necklace was resting.

"What is in that vial, troll?" she asked in Common, her eyes never leaving his face, her body tense.

The troll's eyes slowly descended from the Priestess to his necklace. He firmly closed his fist around it.

"De otha' half of mah soul, Priestess...Dey took it from me"the rogue said in a low, pained tone.

Kyra froze, and slowly turned back around in shock to look at the rogue that spoke. He had indeed a glowing vial tied around his neck . His words from earlier resounded in her head: _"Dey leadah has somethin that belongs ta me"_ , and she simply stared at him, confused.

"Very well then. I am not in a position of choosing allies right now." Tyrande's expression softened, and her stance relaxed "The enemy of my enemy is my friend in these dire times. In the past, your...kin...helped me, troll, so I might aswell return the favor"."I am weak, but I can still cast a spell to get us close to home. _Our home. "_ She emphasized the last words, looking straight in the rogue's eyes. He nodded in response.

"Kyra, hand me the crystal"

Kyra quickly searched in her pouch and handed her the stone. To her surprise, the stone was bright yellow.

"Lucky for you, troll" she added, " I attuned this crystal to one place. That place it's at the border between Ashenvale and Stonetalon Mountains. We can go. Together."

"Thank you, High Priestess..." Kyra started.

"However..." Tyrande interrupted her, "We will not speak of this again. This event will not be shared with anybody, and no one will know about what happened here. That is my only condition. "

"Dis troll be vowing on his own soul." Roh'khin mumbled, tapped at the vial on his neck, and bowed his head.

"You know I don't speak with anyone, as no one speaks with me, Priestess. But I swear, on my family's grave that I will keep this a secret." Kyra said in a low voice

"If any of you forgets this vow, death will be the punishment" Tyrande said in a cold, steady voice.

A now familiar whooshing sound could be heard from the hallway, and they turned their attention towards it. A commotion of fast steps and voices was quickly and dangerously approaching.

"Portals...Dey are bringin' more" the troll hissed.

"Place your hands on the stone! Now!" Tyrande said loud, and started chanting a spell in Darnasae.

Their three hands were places on the magic object, and a faint, warm, white light enveloped them, as the space around them warped in to nothingness. They could see cultists approaching, casting spells, but the cave became a blur, and the three of them vanished. Kyra closed her eyes, for a brief moment, and when she opened them, the familiar trees of Ashenvale formed before her very eyes. She blinked.

Could it be?Please...

Birds...

She could hear birds! Her chest filled with joy, and her nostrils inhaled the smell of leafs and fresh rain.

They were home. On Azeroth. It was over...

Kyra turned her gaze towards the rogue, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sunk. Did he pass with them?

 _"I bet we will see eachotha' again"_ she heard in her head, and a light tap on her shoulder assured her that he did, but vanished as soon as they got there. She nodded and looked at Tyrande, who's look was scolding her, her eyes tired.

Kyra looked in the distance and saw some shapes that could only be Sentinels. _"An hour 'ere is like a second in tha' real world",_ she remembered, and a flare of hope lit her features.

"Over here!" she yelled waving her hands up in the air "We are back! I promised I will get her back!"

"Moongaze, compose yourself!" Tyrande whispered, and pulled her hand.

Kyra smiled and saw one of the Sentinels turning. It was Shandris .Tyrande's most trusted companion turned her head towards them, and not believing her eyes, started running towards the pair, limping

" You are safe, Priestess" Kyra whispered to Tyrande, cupping her hands, and bowing her head.

In that moment, she felt her body relax. As soon as she did so, the trees started spinning, and her head became clouded. She tried to keep her balance, but the action was futile.

"I...am so...tired..." she mumbled, the fatigue and the wound commanding her body to shut down, and under the concerned look of the priestess, she simply collapsed, numb, on the forest floor.

***********************************************************

_**[1]** _ _Hello, Roh'khin, thank you for half of your soul, came to give the other half?_

_**[2]** _ _Sands consume you, idiotic Death singer_


	8. Chapter 8

_Tic...tic...tic..._

_"What is that sound?"_

The darkness enveloped everything around her in a black veil. There were shapeless forms moving around, dissolving in to nothingness, like strings of smoke. The stinging, persistent smell of burnt flesh invaded her nostrils. She was suffocating. She drew short, inconsistent breaths. She felt the air heavy and hot. Her throat was coarse, and every gulp of air was anew shot of pain. An invisible weight was pressing her chest, pushing mercilessly, crushing her ribs.

Kyra heard her own heartbeat. Slow, erratic, pulsating in her ears. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy, sticky.

Suddenly, she was falling , sounds and images were flashing before her eyes. Old images, painful memories, pleasant moments. It was all there, an amalgam of shapes and sounds . She knew every one of them, she remembered every second .

But she could not stop. The fall seemed without end, her body felt limp and powerless and fear crawled in her soul. Wind was sweeping her hair, hot and cutting, invisible strings were biting at her flesh. She tried to move, but her entire body felt like clay. She gasped for air, and nothingness embraced her.

The smell of medicine awoke her briefly. She tried to open her eyes again. This time she succeeded. But the images were a blur. She tried to ask something, but forgot what. She felt her head throbbing painfully. She frowned. It hurt. Everything hurt. She whimpered.

A silhouette got closer, with careful steps

 _"Who is that?"_ she thought " _Go away..."_

A warm hand touched her forehead, and for a moment, the pain was gone. But so was her lucidity. Moments later, she passed out again.

Kyra felt light caressing her face. Somewhere must be an open window. She turned her head towards it, and slowly half opened her eyes, her eyelids still heavy. A dark haired woman was resting on the window frame...

_"Let the moon kiss your hair..."_

The song echoed through the walls like a handful of dropped marbles. It was children song, she remembered, a nursery rhyme. The woman's voice was warm, sweet and pleasant. And somewhat familiar. But, for some reason, subtle notes of sadness and incredible sorrow could be felt in the music. She felt her eyes fill with tears and she gasped in surprise. It seemed like a strange outcome given the circumstances.

_"Let the stars guide your dreams"_

She opened her eyes fully, feeling drawn to the sound of that voice, and slowly rose up. She was in her bed, in Darnassus. To her surprise, she could feel no pain. She knew she dreamed of something, but she could not remember what. She brushed the thought away, as the sound of the dark haired woman' voice filled her head. She glanced towards her, feeling entranced by the music, the moonlight , the peace.

_"All the world will guard your sleep..."_

She slowly descended from her bed. Her steps felt light on the warm wooden floor. She gently walked towards the singing elf, and smiled. Now she remembered the lyrics. She touched the woman's shoulder, and sang the last part along with her, their voices intertwining perfectly:

_"Sleep tight, child. Sleep tight, baby..."_

"Yaressa ..." Kyra smiled at the dark haired elf. The woman cupped her hand, but did not look at her.

" Did you sleep well, sister?" Yaressa brushed graciously a dark strand from her eyes.

"Yes...But I did have a strange dream. I can't remember what was it about."

"Dreams..." Yaressa smiled. "What a strange thing..."

"Indeed..." Kyra whispered for herself. "I think I dreamed that I was a... warrior. What a silly thing to dream about..."

Yaressa looked at her, her icy eyes piercing her very soul.

"Silly indeed"

Kyra shuddered. Her eyes widened. A shiver ran down her spine. She did not know why, but tears started running down her cheeks once more.

"Did you watch me sleep?" she asked, her voice shaky. Yaressa smiled and cupped her face.

" I always do, silly... I always do..."

Kyra took a step back. Her body begun to shake, and more tears pooled in her eyes.

"I don't want to go, sister" Kyra whimpered. "I want to stay here with you..."

Her sister rose up and moved close to her. She wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in an embrace. The hug felt comforting, and the familiar scent of flowers she used to wear invaded her senses. Kyra' eyes released a new stream of tears and her violent sobs shook her to the core. She buried her face in her older sister's neck, letting all the pain out in her muffled weep.

"I don't want to go back, Yaressa..." she whispered again, barely audible

Yaressa pushed her gently aside with one hand, taking Kyra's palms in to hers. Her piercing gaze held her stare for one second, and she smiled.

" You have to..."

Kyra squeezed her hand, and to her horror, she felt nothing. She looked up, and Yaressa's frame slowly turned in to a blurry smoke, slowly vanishing in thin air

"No, no, no, no, please!" she screamed.

But her words fell on deaf ears, as her sister's image disintegrated before her very eyes. She felt her tears running down her cheeks, and collapsed on the floor.

"Yaressa..." she wept uncontrollably, swinging her upper body back and forth. Everything was crumbling inside her, leaving only a void, that slowly was filled with pure despair.

Her palms felt sticky and wet all of the sudden. She slowly brought them to her eye level. A wave of terror washed over her as she saw blood smeared on to her shaking palms. Fear took over in an instant, and she tried to wipe them of her white robe.

But the blood stayed. She took one glance at her hands and froze. It was all dried up now. She tried to wipe it out again, and again, and again, but to no avail. The bloodstain won't go away.

A scream in the distance made her turn around. Someone needed help. She rose up, her legs shaky, and ran towards the sound. She swung the door open.

A beaming white light from the outside nearly blinded her. She quickly covered her eyes. The brightness was burning her skin mercilessly, leaving small gushing wounds where it touched her.

The scream echoed again. This time, more desperate, more dire. It sounded closer now, and despite the pain from the light, she tried to move towards it.

She took one step outside, her arms covering her eyes still. The brightness was whipping her body with rays of pure agony. She roared and started running.

The scream reverberated again. But this time it did not sound neither human, nor animal. It was a howl of pain, a wail of despair. She heard that sound once before... She ran towards it though the flicking light tongues that were biting her skin. The voice was calling for help.

To her surprise and relief, the blaze merciless assault calmed down. It was still hot, but it was not burning. She slowly lowered her arms. A house materialized before her eyes. She cautiously entered the room.

In the middle of the room, in a small bed, was a night elf female. Her body was twisting and turning, whimpers and eerie sounds of pain were erupting from her throat. She was covered in a dirty white sheet, entangling herself in it in a fever induced convulsion. Her face was hidden by the cloth.

Kyra slowly moved towards the woman. The smell of sickness could be felt in the air, and it was getting stronger as she approached. Her stomach turned. She covered her nose. She gently stepped closer. The woman seemed to calm down as Kyra was getting closer. Silence filled the room. The wheezing sounds of the sick elf's erratic breathing was the only noise filling the calmness. Kyra reached towards the bed, grabbing carefully the sheet from the female's face with two fingers, revealing her face. Their eyes met.

Kyra's breath got stuck in her throat. She could not move her legs, they seemed to be glued to the wooden floor.

The woman lying in bed was her.

An unnatural scream erupted from the lungs of the sick version of herself.

" Run!!!"

A black swirl formed in a instant at her feet and she was falling again.

******************************************************************

"She can see her later. I cannot allow her to leave her bed, High Priestess summons or not! It will undo my entire work. In this kind of ...cases, caution is advised"

 _"_ But..."

"I said no! I am not risking!"

_"Where am I?..."_

The cool air of the night swept over her body. She was cold. She started shivering. Her entire body was covered in cold sweat and felt sticky. She smelled medicine and burnt incense. She slowly opened her eyes.

This time, she almost opened them with ease. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make an idea of where she was.

She was at her home, in Darnassus, in her room. She slowly moved her left arm, as to see if that was another dream, another torment from her mind sent to haunt her.

She slowly moved it, and it hurt, the sensation way to real to be part of an illusion. It was the first time when she was truly happy that it hurt. But she lacked strength, she could feel that. Her muscles seemed sore, as if her body was made out of cotton and to top that, her head was spinning. She gritted her teeth, and tried to get up. She could not, and she merely grunted in frustration.

Small hurried steps were approaching her. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, her tired eyes trying to make sense of the approaching form.

It was a blond human priestess.

_"Shattrah..."_

Kyra's eyes went wide in shock, her lower lip started twitching. It was another dream, another nightmare, another torment... She whimpered, one hand trying to cover her freezing body, her legs frantically moving, trying to get up.

The woman quickly laid a hand on her chest, calming her.

"Easy now, you are awake...You are awake. You are in Darnassus. Shattrah was a long time ago. You are not imagining things...Easy..."

"But you...You are not supposed..."

"I got summoned by your Priestess. Easy...Calm...Breath in...Breathe out..." she said and added in calming tone "I fixed you once...I'm supposed to fix you again... Easy...You are safe..."

Kyra started to slowly breathe as instructed. Surprisingly, she gradually calmed down her racing heart, the woman's eyes never leaving her face. As she was calming down, her eyes closed at their own will. She felt sleepy again and succumbed to the soothing, tricky feeling with her entire being.

"No, no, no, Kyra...Listen to me! Don't fall asleep again...You have to stay awake..."

She opened her eyes, this time with more effort. But as she did so, a gush of cold air sent a shiver down her spine.

"I think I am cold..."she murmured, as an icy feeling embraced her. Her teeth started an uncontrollable dance, and she clenched her jaw once more, but it seemed to make matters worse.

"That is good. That means you fever is down... Let's pray that it stay this way."

The woman moved soundless, took a blanket and carefully placed it over the shaking Night Elf, covering her with caring gestures.

For some time, the only sound that interrupted the silence was her shaking, hsallow breathing. The human priestess was silently watching the wounded Night elf, murmuring unknown prayers under her breath.

"Why?"

Kyra's raspy voice startled the woman.

"Why what?" she asked, confused

"Why did Tyrande summoned you? "

The woman laughed and waved her hand.

"To save your life, silly" she added, smiling, and glanced at the wounded warrior.

"We have healers."

Kyra's relentless stare was piercing. The woman's smile froze.

The priestess exhaled loudly, and bit her lip.

"Why...you? Of all people on Azeroth, why you?"

"Well..." he priestess said in a hushed tone. "I lend my services to Tyrande from time to time. "

Kyra puffed and rolled her eyes. The woman shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject.

"You were a piece of work, I'll tell you that. At one point, you have given up. I thought you were a goner. The nightmares seemed to interfere with your will to live, so I gave you dreamless sleep potions. They helped. The Light helped. I helped. But if Tyrande would have chosen to not summon me, believe me, you would have been long dead. So, Tyrande helped. Don't forget that."

"You were a piece of work, she started soflty, I'll tell you that. At one point, you have given up. I thought you were a goner. The nightmares seemed to interfere with your will to live, so I gave you dreamless sleep potions. They helped. The Light helped. I helped. But if Tyrande would have chosen to not summon me, believe me, you would have been long dead. So, Tyrande helped. Don't forget that."

Kyra did not react. She pulled the blanket under her chin and rolled on one side, her back at the human. She was starring at the wooden wall. The motionless image was calming to her.

Kyra did not react. She pulled the blanket further under her chin and rolled on one side, her back at the human. She was starring at the wooden wall. The motionless image was calming to her.

"How long was I in bed?" she asked

"Six full days" the priestess responded.

Kyra felt like her heart skipped a beat.

"You were here the whole time?"Kyra asked

"Oh yes, of course."

"Was I...the only one you had to heal?" Kyra asked, her words sounded strange, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Yes."the Priestess responded calmly.

"You don't care anyway..." Kyra added, puffing.

The Priestess tilted her head on one side, and an slight smirk appeared on her face. She kept her gaze fixed on the wounded elf, and added :

"You would have been dead if I didn't."she made sure she emphasized every word.

Silence.

"I actually noticed something... rather...peculiar while healing you..." The Priestess changed the subject in a light tone

Kyra's brow went up, and she slowly turned to face the woman.

"You have a binding of sorts, dare I say - embed in your very soul. I has to be a priest's doing. I heard stories about it...It seems fascinating...It creates a link..."

"I know what it does." Kyra interrupted her

The priestess smiled.

"I can remove it."

"Don't."

Kyra's cold stare made the priestess's words freeze mid air.

Kyra's cold stare made the priestess's words freeze mid air.

Slowly, silence descended once more over them. They were both quiet and reticent. The priestess seemed oddly preoccupied with her hands, and Kyra was simply studying the ceiling.

All of the sudden, Kyra puffed, and tossed the blanket aside. She planted her elbows in the sheets, and tried to get up. The priestess panicked, and in mere seconds she was next to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"What are you doing?" the human whispered, confusion dancing in her eyes. She even tried to smile for a second.

"Let me go or I'll break your arms..." Kyra hissed under her breath

The concern in the human's eyes gave away to fear. She slowly retracted her hands and sat down once more

Kyra's face held the anger for a brief moment. Her eyes then moved to the wall in front of her and exhaled loudly. She slowly got up, in a sitting position. This action took great effort, but she did not want the other woman to suspect that. She exhaled again, removed the sheet from her legs and planted her feet on the wooden floor.

They started to shake, and she lost her balance. She fell back on the bed and punched the pillow in frustration, gritting her teeth. The priestess quickly rose up, prepared to help her, but Kyra waved one hand, and the woman stopped.

"You are still weak..." she mumbled

"I'll be the judge of that."Kyra retorted.

She rose up, her teeth clenching. Her shaky legs finally listened, and she took one painful step. She straightened her back, and took one more. She tried to do one more step, but her right leg gave up. In mere seconds, she lost her balance, and her hand looked frantically for something to grab on. She gasped when another set of hands caught her.

"Let me go!" Kyra hissed, trying to escape from her grasp.

"Stop acting like a child!" the Priestess retorted, annoyance clear in her voice.

"I can stand on my own!" Kyra yelled. She tried to plant her feet on the ground, all that while trying to break free from the other woman's grasp, twisting and turning her body. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, her breath ragged.

The human was struggling to hold Kyra still, to help her, but the Elf kept moving her weakened limbs, as to force the Priestess to let her go. The Priestess screamed as Kyra's teeth caught her exposed arm, and she let the body go, instinctively. The elf fell with a dull thud on the wooden floor.

The Priestess noticing quickly her slip in focus, rushed to raise her up once more.

"Touch me and the next thing I bite is your jugular."

Kyra's icy tone made her freeze.

She sighted. She simply looked at the elf that was sitting on the floor, dressed only in her nightgown, wet, sticky hair covering her forehead. Her frame looked weak, slightly shaking. She seemed tired and her short, uneven breaths made her chest rise and fall, with a light tremor to it. At the first glance she looked like a shadow of her former self. Gone was the warrior. In it's place was a normal, sick woman, trying to get up, her trembling hands scrambling to lean on the bed. She sighted again, and then she saw it.

Kyra felt her staring and turned towards the Priestess. Her eyes were narrowed, her gaze piercing. There was no pain there, no trace of tears. Only anger. Pure anger. And she was the enemy. Regardless of her body state, how much it hurt, how much pain has she endured, her eyes were cold, and her mind seemed unusually rational. Looking in to her eyes, she saw the warrior.

"Please, let me help you, Kyra..." the Priestess pleaded

Kyra rose up, slowly, feeling her legs shaky still, but more steady that before. She took a few careful steps, and when she was sure of her stability, she started to slowly walk away. The Priestess eyes went wide. She blurted:

"Would you please rest? You will undo everything I did"

"I saved your life..." she continued in a tiny voice

Kyra stopped, her back at the priestess.

"What makes you think I wanted that?"

The Priestess inhaled sharply, and her jaw slightly dropped. The Elf's words made her shoulder sink, and she let her head down, not believing her ears. She felt the pain in her words, and tried to say something more, but her words left her.

Kyra straightened her back, and walked slowly, carefully, distancing herself from the other woman.

"Tyrande wants to see you..." the Priestess said. Her voice was tiny.

"I will see her. I need to eat." Kyra answered, and continued descending the stairs towards the kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

"...and then we decided we should start our own organization. It took some time, of course, because we had to earn our reputation. It was not easy at first, but we were all friends before forming it, and we decided, one night, while we were in Ironforge..."

"Please shut up..."

The priestess turned her gaze towards Kyra, visibly confused. The warrior had her elbows on the table, her hands cupping her head.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Shut ...up! My head hurts... You humans talk way too much..."

The priestess smile melted. She slowly turned towards the cupboard, absently arranging the jars. For a couple of seconds, the only sound that was animating the room was the low glass clicking from the recipients. Silence was covering them like a thick, invisible layer.

A loud whistle made the priestess jump, her right hand, instinctively touching her chest. A small chuckle made her turn towards it. Kyra smirked at the human and nodded in the direction of the boiling, noisy kettle.

"Silly me!" the Priestess laughed forcefully." I forgot about the tea!"

She quickly grabbed a kitchen towel, removed the kettle and poured the green liquid in a small cup on the counter. Despite her earlier scare, her movements seemed controlled.

"There you go..." she said in a soft tone, placing the cup in front of the elf," I made you a nice cup of Briathorn"

Kyra slowly raised her eyes, and took one careful look at the cup. Her nose wrinkled when the smell hit her senses. She quickly shook her head and pushed the cup away.

"I am not drinking that..." she scoffed.

The Priestess sighted, rolling her eyes. She inhaled loudly, and sat herself at the table, facing the Elf, smiling.

"Yes you will..."

Kyra frowned as the human smiled . Then, with a light hand she slowly pushed the cup away from her, and plopped her hands in her lap.

"I am not... drinking...that " she stated.

"Stop acting like child. Drink it. You need it. It will help the healing process" Then the Priestess, with great care, shoved the cup under the elf's nose.

Kyra slowly leaned in front of her, looked the Priestess in the eye, arching her brow and pushed the cup away. The human smiled again, this time, narrowing her eyes, looking slightly menacing. Her patience seemed on edge. Despite that, without breaking eye contact, she gently nudged the cup in front of the elf once more. Kyra rolled her eyes.

"It smells horrible"

"But it is healthy"

"I said..."

"I know what you said!" the Priestess raised her voice, taking them both by surprise . She rose up, place her palms on the table, and commanded in a steady tone :

"Drink. It."

Kyra rose up herself, smirking, slightly tilted her head and looked the human in the eye. Meeting her murderous gaze she chuckled sarcastically. With her left hand, shaking her head she grabbed the cup, brought it to her mouth, and in one swift motion extended her arm and poured the liquid on the ground.

But the tea never hit the floor. Surprised that there was no sound, Kyra looked at the cup.

"I am sorry..." was all she heard, before her body started to have a mind of it's own.

Her right arm slowly bent and brought the cup to her lips. To her horror, she could not control any of it. She frowned, trying to regain some sway over the situation, but no part of her body would listen. She slowly and painfully moved her head to look at the human, and saw the Priestess holding her hand up, her gaze focused and unwavering.

Kyra's stare was like wildfire. The human was controlling her body, there was no doubt about it, but it was no ordinary mind control spell. It looked like she could only command her body, not her thoughts. But it was enough of an boundaries stepping gesture to set the Night Elf on the rage crazed path.

Kyra's breath became heavy, anger pulsing in her veins. She felt frustrated, as her body was doing something she refused before, defying her prideful nature. And she could just watch, like a simple bystander. Kyra swore that she would kill the human, as soon as the spell was over.

Before she knew it, her legs flexed, and she sat down with a thud, the tea droplets from the cup splashing on her lap. Her mouth opened, and in an instant, she was drinking the potion in slow, steady gulps. She could not feel the burning of the hot liquid on her throat, but she could swear it was there. She closed her eyes shut, knowing or feeling the taste she fell disgusted.

The Priestess mind controlling spell was channeled for a couple of seconds, but it felt like ages. Slowly, but surely Kyra felt her body slowly coming to it's senses, and her arm went limp, dropping the cup, which fell with a loud clang and rolled a couple of times on the floor. The warrior gasped for air, leaning on the table.

"I had to do it..." the Priestess mumbled an apology, and lowered her hand.

As soon as she felt that the spell was losing it's strength, Kyra launched herself across the room, and with a roar, pinned the poor human to the wall, holding her right forearm to the healer's neck. The Priestess let out an yelp, as her frame flew across the space, the impact with the wall knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her eyes went wide with fear, as she saw the elf's left fist closing the distance between themselves, at a great speed, realizing that she could not avoid the punch, closed her eyes shut. Fueled by the rage, a newfound strength seemed to have enveloped the weak warrior.

A loud knock on the door made them both to look away for a split second.

The punch landed on the wall, and Kyra swore under her breath for her lack of concentration. Profiting from the momentarily distraction, the Priestess quickly slipped from the deadlock with and yelp , much to the warrior's frustration , and ran to the door.

She quickly opened it, the light of the day in all it's midday glory invaded the small kitchen.

Kyra covered her eyes with her forearm and frowned. The brightness felt painfully unfamiliar on her skin. She slowly squinted her eyes, still holding her arm up and looked at the door. She could barely distinguish the intruder's silhouette , but the outline of the armor suggested that the uninvited guest was a sentinel.

"I am sorry to bother you, priestess, but Mistress Tyrande sent me once more for sister Moongaze. I know you said ..."

"Oh, no, forget what I said" the Priestess interrupted the sentinel , casually slipping outside. She shot a quick glance at the warrior, and continued in a whisper: "Your sister Moongaze is fine. More than fine, I might add. "

The sentinel seemed to be taken aback, and leaned closer to the human:

"But you said before that caution..."

"Forget what I said before! " the Priestess added waving her hand "She is fine. Tyrande asked for me to heal her, so I did. She can walk, she can talk and even punch holes in the walls, imagine that!" the Priestess added the last bit, emphasizing the words with a loud fake chuckle, wanting for Kyra to hear them. The sentinel's gaze danced slowly between the two of them, confused, trying to understand the Priestess's odd behavior.

The priestess brushed off some invisible dust from her robe, and added in a rushed tone:

" Your healers can take it from here, I am sure they can handle it. My job here is done, I'll be on my way, thank you very much."

With that she bowed her head, making the puzzled sentinel to do that in response, automatically, and with a final look towards Kyra, scoffed at the warrior, and brushed past the guard, mumbling to herself.

The sentinel's confused gaze followed the Priestess, with her mouth slightly opened. Then she shook her head and turned towards Kyra, and her confused expression morphed in to disgust.

The warrior stood there on her weak limbs, her hand covering her face, hiding from the punishing light. A small nightgown was barely covering her shaking knees. Her legs had freshly healed ugly cuts on them, that were contrasting with her pale - pink skin. She looked starved and powerless. Her once long, luscious white hair has now limp, covered in dried blood, pus and sweat, hanging from her head like withered vines, sticking to her neck and chest.

The sentinel tried to look away, and was hesitant in entering the room, pacing on the same spot. Finally, she faced Kyra, raised her chin, cleared her throat and uttered:

"Sister Moongaze... Mistress Tyrande wants to see you, as soon as possible. It is of utmost importance, the details of which are unknown to me, as I am a mere sentinel. She is waiting for you."

She quickly turned to walk away, but stopped abruptly. Without looking at the warrior, she whispered:

"Please, for Elune's sake, take a bath before you meet her. I can smell you form outside..."

That being said, the sentinel vanished from sight, hurried foot steps being the only memory of her presence.

Kyra waited a few moments for the sound of foot steps to diminish, and when she was sure they were gone, slowly approached the door, still frowning at the light and slammed it shut in one swift motion.  
The adrenaline from before was dissipating, and she felt her head spin. She almost lost her balance and leaned on the door for support, letting her forehead rest on the cool wood, and inhaled loudly. A foul smell invaded her nostrils, and to her surprise, it was her own. It made her sick to her stomach. It reeked of death.

She rested her forehead there for a few moments, letting her mind to wonder. The interaction from before with the healer sprung in to her mind, and she smiled. She vividly remembered the frightened look on the priestess' face and imagined what she, herself, looked like, filled with rage, he expression contorted with fury aiming for revenge. Her smile widened, and slowly, she started laughing out loud. Her laughter sounded clear, the notes of it were pure, the cascades of chuckles making her chest rumble.

The soul music resonated in her empty house, the walls reverberating with this happiness inducing sound that was missing from this place for a very long time.

She slowly detached herself from the door, still laughing, her head spinning, and using every wall for support in her way, started to slowly walk towards the bathroom.

She reached the bathing chamber, and to her surprise, the tub was filled with lukewarm water, green plants floating on the surface – medicine, no doubt. It was most definitely the work of the priestess from before, part of her healing plan. This thought made Kyra laugh louder.

She slowly removed her sticky nightgown, still trying to maintain her balance, and descended with her feet in to the warm, inviting water.

The liquid stung, as new small cuts were making their presence known on her body, and she shuddered at the unexpected pain. She clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the pain and carefully sat in the bathtub, using the edges for balance. When she was fully submerged in the liquid, up to her neck, she exhaled loudly. Slowly, the healing water started to make the pain subside, and her muscles relaxed. She closed her eyes, and small tears started to caress her cheeks, shacking her chest in low, rhythmic movements. Though the veil of tears , a bitter smile spread across her features.

She never felt more alive.


	10. Chapter 10

For the first time in her life Kyra did not rush. She was pacing steadily, taking her time, slightly limping, towards the Temple of Elune. Each step meant a new shot of pain through her body, making her brows frown, but she did not seem to mind. She mentally waved the aching away, ignoring the signals it was sending, and took every step with her chin up. The pain was a reminder that she was alive, that she survived.

She lived to tell the story.

The streets were unusually empty today, so she did not have to worry about the unwanted looks from the bystanders. Tyrande's spies took care of that, it seemed. She did not send any escort after the warrior either, as to not draw too much attention. Kyra was pleased. That meant less stares from her fellow sentinels.

While slowly walking, one thing seemed to bore in her mind, wandering around her head, plaguing with doubt the happiness of her recovery. She tried to push the thought away, but with no success. It kept resurfacing over and over again. She sighted in frustration.

She kept thinking if the Troll was alive. Last time she saw him, his injuries looked pretty bad. But then again, their race was known to posses and extraordinary self healing ability...So he could've recovered...She knew he was horde, the enemy, but he fought alongside her, no question asked.

He wasn't horde. He was a comrade. A comrade that could be dead now, only because she had the privilege of being born a Night Elf, and Tyrande ordered someone to heal her properly. Just as she did in Shattrah.

 _"Please be safe..."_ she thought .

Her thoughts started to overwhelm her, and she stopped. She took a couple of deep breaths, clenching her jaw, trying to clear her head. She looked up and saw the Temple. She did not even realize when she got there. She exhaled loudly, and started ascending the steppes towards the entrance. She tried to avoid any unwanted stares from the apprentices and to ignore the smell of ritualistic herbs that stirred painful memories. She quickened her pace, despite the pain inside her body, wrapping her cloak tighter to her body as to not be recognized. The speed made her limp more obvious, and that made her more angry and the pain worse. But the young priestesses that were in the temple seemed absorbed with lighting incenses and praying in silence, so she sighted in relief. She quickly made her way upstairs, to the High Priestesses chambers.

Tyrande was seated at the end of a long table placed in the middle of her quarters. Shandris was seated at her right, her head bowed. Few priestesses and sentinels were seated alongside the grand table, their heads bowed in silence. All around the table, and next to almost every guest there was an empty seat. The High Priestess was murmuring a prayer, and the women were following her chants in a whisper.

Kyra stopped in the doorframe, waiting for the verses to end. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, uncomfortably, not wanting to disturb the prayer, but not knowing what to do either. She could not walk back now. Not she could enter the room. She was just trapped in the door frame, not knowing what to do. She rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in frustration.

Her eyes darted to the guests in the room. She counted about thirty women. To her surprise, she recognized most of them. Some had their hair shorter than she remembered, some longer. Some wore high ranking gear now, but she remembered them as novices. There was no doubt, this was a gathering of the new Sisterhood of Elune, and she used to be part of it. But she left, alongside Maiev and others to join and form the Wardens, some chose different paths.

Then her eyes fell on the empty seats and her heart sunk.

The ones that were not present could not refuse the royal summons. The pride and honor of the Night Elfs forbade that, and none of them would dare to not appear. Unless they turned to the Burning Legion or forfeit the Alliance altogether, which most definitely was not the case. No, that was not it.

They were all dead. All the empty seats were now a real, painful memory of the dead ones. Oh, the irony.

The thought of it made her sick. She swallowed and lowered her gaze, shaking her head.

"Sister Moongaze! Glad that you could join us. Hope you are better now, yes?"

Kyra raised her head in an instant. Tyrande's calm voice stopped her train of thoughts and in mere seconds, all the participants eyes were on her. She could not read their expression, as they just prayed and had a serene look across their features. Except for Shandris . She starred at the warrior with her jaw stiff, her eyes narrowed. Kyra felt a small drop of cold sweat slowly descending in the back of her neck and she swallowed once more and cleared her throat.

"Yes, High Priestess, I am feeling much better." She said in a firm tone "Thank you." She murmured and bowed her head.

The Priestess smiled.

"Sit." Tyrande pointed at a chair at the middle of the table.

Kyra bowed her head once more, and removed the hood of her cloak.

"Thank you" she said and proceeded to get to her place. She was relieved that her chair was nowhere near the High Priestess, and she sat on it in silence, bowing her head, not willing to look at the ones that were seated next to her.

"I will address the purpose of this meeting shortly, we have some more guests that should arrive soon" Tyrande said in a calm tone, and turned to whisper something to Shandris, which in return was making approval gestures.

"Here they are!" Shandris pointed at the door.

 _"No..."_ Kyra thought without raising her eyes

She could recognize the familiar metallic sound anywhere. Slow, heavy armor clatter... The rigid clang of the shoulderpads against the headpiece... The plate boots scrapping the floor... The heavy breath behind the faceguard...The clinging of the carefully sharpened weapons that could cut through flesh, through skin, up to the bone, meant to kill, to shatter souls...

She hated herself for not forgetting this sound, for not burying this memory alongside others that she did not mean to forget...She slowly raised her gaze to look at the intruder, even though she did not need to see to know exactly who that was. She hoped that her eyes will meet someone else, that in the doorframe will be a Sentinel, a veteran of the war, she hoped that Tyrande would not be so foolish as to negotiate with that despicable monster...But when her eyes fell on the frame at the door, all her hopes shattered, and a new flare of rage and anger started to burn inside of her.

 _"Maiev..."_ she thought as the feeling of nausea overwhelmed her. Fear mixed with fury, terror and frustration were tearing both her mind and soul. She felt her heartbeat increasing it's pace, her breath became erratic, her fists clenched on the hilts of her weapons as to melt their leathery strips. The air around her felt hot, and the only thought she had was to kill.

"We are glad that you could make it, sister. Please, take a seat"

Tyrande gestured towards a seat that was opposed to Kyra. The warrior shook her head, not believing the audacity of the warden and the ignorance of the High Priestess. The low murmur at the table indicated that she was not the only one displeased at the idea.

Maiev slowly walked in to the room, her chin up. Her heavy footsteps were echoing in the room, as silence descended upon the gathering. Kyra felt her blood boil, and the heat from the anger made her lip twitch, her knuckles turning white from clenching the weapon's hilt.

Maiev sat down, the clattering of the armor stopping for a brief moment. She looked up and saw Kyra across her. The warden froze and her eyes narrowed. Her gaze started to slowly dart from side to side, taking in to account all that surrounded her. Next, her hands started to slowly move, reaching for the glaives.

"Don't you dare..." Kyra hissed under her breath.

The warden stopped for a brief moment, her eyes locked with the warrior's, then continued slower than before.

"Or...what?" Maiev added ironically, in a coarse voice. Her hands continued to slowly descend towards her own weapons.

The sound of Maiev's voice made the warrior pulse quicken.

In this very moment, every rational thought left Kyra's brain.The only thing she felt was waves and waves of heat raising from her chest, pulsing in her temples. A loud ringing started in her ears. In an instant she jumped from her chair with a feral roar and leaped towards Maiev, toppling her with her weight , her both swords drawn towards her enemy, their sharp point aiming for the warden's chest. The warden was quick to react and parried the blow with her rounded glaive, with a loud grunt. None of them were paying attention to the loud gasps around them and concerned phrases that the other participants were uttering in a haste. But Kyra's ears picked a sound from her left, and she turned her gaze for a brief moment towards it. The warden then, seemingly with no effort with one swift motion, disarmed the warrior. One sword left Kyra's grasp, rolling on the floor, away from her.

The warrior, frustrated, without thinking twice threw the other sword on the ground, and grabbed the warden's blade with her bare hands, screaming uncoherent words, trying to push it in to her opponent's neck. Her roars sounded unnatural, demonic almost. But if someone was listening, the could've hear the pain in her voice, the almost crying tone that her words had. 

Kyra's eyes were filled with fury. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, her face contorted in a mask of pure anger. All she could see was Maiev. The one that ruined her reputation. The one that disfigured her face and scarred her soul .The one that killed her friends. The liar. The insane. The murderer. She had to die now. She had to be gone forever, or else there was no end to her nightmares, no end to her guilt. Kyra made a promise to herself, long time ago, that she would not stop until Maiev's blood would be cold on the floor... An oath that she swore to fulfill.

She did not hear the footsteps at first. When she realized it, it was too late. A hard punch landed on her right cheek, knocking her on the ground, and she lost her grip on the blade and on Maiev. She looked up, in anger, at the attacker, and hissed like a predator that was cut off from it's prey. Maiev quickly took the opportunity, and rolled away on the floor from her attacker, getting right on to her feet, in a battle stance.

Kyra got up in an instant to confront her attacker. In front of her was Shandris, standing at her full height, her eyes narrowed, her lip twitching, her fists up, ready to throw another punch. Behind her she saw Maiev, and her heart started beating faster, pumping blood in to her mad brain. She saw her sword on the ground, and went to retrieve it, but a set of hands grabbed her elbows, twisting them behind her back. The warrior, enraged at the sudden intrussion wanted to kick the other cowardly attacker with the sole of her boot in the shin, but a hard, painful kick in the back of her legs made her kneel. She yelled in agony.

Another set of hands gripped her neck, pulling her head upright.

As she struggled to break free from the ones that jumped to hold her still, moving her body from side to side, pulling her arms from the deadlock they were in, she saw Maiev standing on the other side of the room.

The warden was smiling. Her face was covered with the helmet, but once again Kyra could swear she was smirking.

As sweat was covering her body,from her own ragged breath and struggle she saw that no one was holding Maievand she froze.

The warden was standing there, victorious, superior, while the warrior was punished for her audacity. Her nostrils flared in ager, and she could hear her own heart beating fast, erratic. She was shivering from the adrenaline rush that was slowly subsiding, frustrated that her prey ran away. She had to keep her composure, otherwise her anger might let tears, real tears of anger to take it's place.

 _No one was holding Maiev_. The thought was repeated by her own mind with a strange, mocking tone to it. Everyone was here, trying to hold her still. She slowly looked around her and she saw them. Scared faces, beads of sweat on their foreheads, trembling lips, eyes in tears. But no anger. There was pain in every gaze, pity, fear. But no anger. She looked around in confusion.

Someone was speaking to her, from her left, but she could not here the woman, nor she could see her face clearly. She frowned as blood was pumping in her temples, the intense drumming in her head making it even harder to hear anything.

"Please, calm down..." she heard a faint voice from the woman next to her. "This is not the time, Moongaze, trust me." Kyra shook her head. "Please..."the woman pleaded in a tiny voice. "Or Shandris will punch you again. Or worse."

Then, in a tiny, trembling, pleading voice the woman whispered hastily :"Trust me. I want to kill her too. But this is not the time..."

The warrior was panting now, the adrenaline was going away. The grips around her loosened a bit. Kyra felt hot tears burning her eyes, and she closed them. She bit her lip, frowned, and tried to calm herself. Slow breaths were filling her chest. She opened her eyes.

Raising her gaze, she took a closer look at the woman that was desperately trying to make her come to her senses. Her eyes widened as she recognized her. It was Sivera Lightray, a former warden...Long was gone the uniform of the warden, she wore now a formal priestess attire. She was there when...Oh Elune...

Kyra lowered her gaze and shook her head in surrender, slowly. She took one last look at the priestess, and nodded in agreement.

"Good call, Moongaze" Tyrande uttered. Her surprisingly steady tone made her ears twitch.

Kyra forgot that she was there. For a second she forgot that she was in the Temple. It was just her and Maiev in her head. A duel to death. She lost herself, and now,slowly the pices of her body and soul were flying as to be sown toghether once again.

Tyrande was standing in the middle of the doorway. The same place where she stood when she greeted Maiev. She never moved or wanted to intervene. " _Or did the encounter lasted for mere seconds?"_... Kyra's brain tried to understand.

The gripping hands left her body, and she rose up. For a second, it seemed like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for her to jump on the warden again. But Kyra did not move, and a relieved sigh was heard.

"Very well. How about you, Maiev?" the Priestess turned her head to the other end of the room.

The warden smiled, and extended her hands upfront, palms up, in a surrender gesture also.

"Very well then. We shall continue our meeting."

Kyra slowly turned around, and riding the last strain of anger, kicked with her left foot the chair on the ground. The loud sound made the attendees jump, and in an instant Shandris was in front of her, her forehead mere inches from the warrior's.

"I will have you kicked out in a second if you do one more gesture, Moongaze. My patience has it's limits...." Tyrande turned her angry gaze towards Kyra. The warrior nodded absently, planting her palms on the table. "Very well then, I want to state something, and hope I will make myself clear. I invited Maiev here for reason way beyond your comprehension. But I will explain that, of course, as long as you can keep your head cool. I needed you all here. Each and every one of you. This is not the time for old quarrels..."

A sad smile spread across Kyra's features. Her voice was low, sad notes could be heard in it when she added:

"How can you do that, Priestess? How can you count on her for anything?..."

" Traitor!" Maiev spat with disgust from the other side of the room.

"Oh, cut your barking!" Kyra yelled to the warden, her eyes flaring pure rage

" I regret letting you live, worm!"Maiev hissed

"You're lucky they are holding me, otherwise these would be your last words, bitch!"

"Enough!"

Tyrande's booming voice filled the room, sending shivers down everyone's spines. Kyra bit her lower lip and shook her head. No matter how much she disliked Tyrande, her commanding tone could set everyone and everything straight in a matter of seconds. That's why people loved her and would have followed her until their death.

Kyra felt a hand placed on her shoulder, taping gently in a reassuring manner. It was Sivera. The warrior looked briefly at Maiev, and saw her gaze fixed on Tyrande, her expression serene. She knew the warden did not feel this way. She knew Maiev hated Tyrande more than anything. Hell she even let her for dead.. But she had the guts to lie when it suited her, which Kyra did not. That's why Kyra had a scar and she didn't.

"I will hear nothing more from any of you!" Tyrande commanded, her eyes moving from one to another " I have plenty of things to do and a whole race to rule, I don't want to play a mother figure in your childish quarrel. From this moment on, who doesn't feel like it belongs here, can leave. Now!" Her icy tone made their blood to freeze. For a second no one moved. It felt like the air was still. "But know this: you leave – you will be forever deemed as a traitor. You will no longer be part of Darnassus or the Alliance. No one will hunt you. But also no one will be there to watch your back! " She inhaled " Or, stay. Stay and fulfill your duty to this nation, leave your personal, petty disputes at the door, as there are more pressing matters and issues way beyond our existence. And we can solve them, and help each other. Together."

Tyrande turned on her heels, and slowly walked to the end of the table and graciously sat down on her chair.

"So, which one will be? I'll wait."

The silence that filled the room was her answer. Heads were bowed, eyelids half closed, eyes scouting left and right.

But no one left. No one moved either.

"Glad we agree" Tyrande smiled. "Now, everyone, sit, please!" she commanded "Maiev, please, come sit next to me. Shandris, take Maiev's seat. Just to be safe,"

Kyra felt her heart racing, but she held her composure. She inhaled deep and slowly started to walk towards her seat. She sat down, and only then she noticed that her hands were clenched into fists, her knuckles painfully white. A small hand caressed her shoulder. She quickly turned towards it. It was Sivera, and she was smiling. She sat herself next to Kyra, placing her hand, calmly on the warrior's closed fist. Kyra opened her palm, slowly.

A loud armor clatter in front of her made her turn. Shandris slammed herself down on the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She smiled at Kyra and rolled her eyes. _"Why is she smiling?"_ Kyra thought. Again, she found no anger in the sentinel's eyes. But before she could ask Shandris the same question, Tyrande's voice filled the room:

"As you can see, I've gathered here the remaining forces of the Sisterhood of the Elune. We grew...apart. Many of us chose different paths, and we lost what made us strong – Unity." Tyrande bowed her head and sighted. " Although we faced many challenges together, we defeated every enemy that stood in our way, we lost very much in the process. Our own brothers and sisters, our homes, our families. Some of us, even our faith."

Kyra felt Tyrande's gaze descend upon her for a short second.

"However, I did not summon you from all corners of the world to remind you the past. I called upon you to speak about our future, and to ensure that we will have one. I recieved news that king Varian is back, safe and sound."

A light murmur was slowly spreading across the room.

" Now is the time for a more...united Alliance. As the rightful King of Stormwind is back, he is calling for us to unite now, more than ever. To answer the Alliance call, whenever the need may arise" she made a short pause, as to emphasize what she was about to say next.

"We are a race that lost almost everything. We know it, and the world knows it too. Elune has been kind to our people, and it is time that we start to share the good. We will honor our oath towards the Alliance. I've received word of some members of The Argent Dawn joining our city's defenses. They are recruiting for a Northrend expedition, and keeping us safe with their expertise from this new plague that our spies have informed us of. Untill then, we as a nation, need to be at our best. So, I've decided to train a new order of wardens. That is why Maiev is here."

Kyra's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She looked straight to Tyrande. She could not believe her ears. This was beyond appalling. She knew it was a mistake, she knew it was against every logical train of thought... She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. After all, there was nothing she could do.

"We also faced many betrayals, ones that run deep inside our own walls. " Tyrade continued

"I recently found out about a group of cultists operating from inside Darnassus. This is beyond unacceptable. Somehow it slipped from our attention. Probably because we have grown soft, and forgot that for us, the trials never end. But with the new wardens we will have more trained spies, fighters and we will be able to secure balance amidst our nation and therefore, help the Alliance. Alas, we cannot help anyone, until we sort our own issues. So we must take a different approach. Each and every one of you will lead, or help a new faction within Darnassus: new priest order, rogue, warrior and warden. You will lead them with your steady hand and many years of expertise on foreign lands.A reform, if you like. Not mandatory, of course."

Silence.

"So, that means – Tisela," Tyrande's gaze landed on a green haired priestess, on the other side of the room." You will lead the new priestesses of the moon. You will share your expertise from Mount Hyjal . Kyra," the warrior felt her eyes landing on her and froze." You will help with the warden training, along with Maiev and Sivera. You can share your Outland experience. I hope you can put your differences aside. Sivera, I count on your diplomacy."

Tyrande went on, naming the leaders of the future orders, in a mesmerizing long speech, that was meant to encourage them, and give new hope to the night elfs gathered in the room. The words sounded shallow for Kyra's ears, their meaning lost. She was one of the few that knew the exact reason why Tyrande took this measure. She and Shandris saw what happened in Ashenvale. She could not protest. She could not leave. If she left now, she will be forever banned from Darnassus...She frowned.

"This is all I had to communicate to you today." Tyrande smiled " And I would like to add that all of this will start next week. You have time until then to organize your schedule, go wherever you may have the need to. Or stay in Darnassus, as we are in the middle of the Midsummer Festival Celebration, to rest and enjoy some of the local food....And drinks, of course..." Tyrande smiled.

"Meeting adjourned" Shandris said in a loud tone, with her gaze fixated on Kyra. Kyra's eyes pierced back at the Sentinel, holding her ground.

The attendees slowly got up to leave. A low murmur was heard across the room . Low plate rumble and cloth whooshing as seemingly empty armors and robes were leaving the room. All of them bowed before shortly before the High Priestess prior to exiting.

Amidst the low buzzing of the room, Sivera gently approached Kyra's ear and whispered: "Hope I'll see you at the celebration. Some of us are gathering to drink our brains off."

Kyra smiled. She realized she needed a strong drink and a night of alcohol amnesia. Maiev passed before her, without even looking in her direction. Kyra felt bile rising up in her throat. She shook her head in disgust.She shortly bowed before Shandris, and rose to leave the room aswell.

"Moongaze...Not yet..." Shandris whispered coldly.

"Stay. The Priestess has something to say to you. In private." The Sentinel rose up, and went towards The High Priestess.

Kyra stood up and sighted. She felt tired. No matter what she did, she somehow manage to get herself into trouble. Nothing worked. Even now, all she wanted was to exit the room, but she could not. Something was screaming inside of her, but she did not know what. She clenched her jaw as she saw the last of the group leaving the quarters. "Lucky..." she thought to herself...

Slow steps approached her.

"Moongaze..." Tyrande started in a direct manner.

Kyra quickly turned her head in surprise, as the Priestesses tone was different than before. It lacked emphasis, power, direction. It sounded cold and soulless.

"I will be brief." Tyrande faced the warrior and her glacial stare made her skin crawl. "I, by no means condone your behaviour! In the eyes of our people, you are more of a traitor than Maiev."

"I am truly sorry, Priestess..."Kyra bowed her head, mumbling.

"Oh, stop it! You are not. How can you be sorry for something that you are not in control of? For something that you did not try to gain control of? I heard what you did to Toula, this morning.!"

"...Who?" Kyra was visibly confused.

"The priestess that healed you. You acted like a spoiled child, and that priestess put you back together, in spite of that. You are never grateful."Tyrande swung her hands in despair.

Kyra's breath started to accelerate. She was being scolded once more for what she was, yet they made her that. Even if she saved the Priestess, it did not matter. She was who she was. Her scar was the proof. She was a traitor.

"Now..." Tyrande adopted a more steady tone " Without you, your help and your...friend, I maybe would not stand here today. But there lays a problem. People should not know about that, about the events that we faced...As we previously discussed. You remember, don't you?" The Priestesses gaze was unwavering.

"Yes." Kyra mumbled.

"Well, now that we are once more clear on that, you have to know that you will soon be in charge, along with Maiev of a new order of wardens. That is a promotion. I can't do that, without merit"

Kyra frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?"

Tyrande brought her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. She exhaled loudly.

"There is no easy way to say this..." the Priestess sighted. " I can't promote you, when you, in the eyes of our people are still a traitor"

"But I saved you life, Priestess..." Kyra bursted out, taking a step towards the Priestess. Shandris was quick to draw her blade, calculating the warrior's every move.

"I know that." The Priestess continued. " But the people don't."

Kyra frowned once more and took a step back. She turned her back at Tyrande and cupped her head with her hands. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, and she uttered in a low voice, almost inaudible.

"So then...what do you propose, High Priestess...?" her tone sounded mockingly, and she heard Shandris click her tongue.

" A grand gesture. A public one. A sacrifice. I'm leaving this decision to yourself. You decide what do you want to do. Any cost will be compensated, of course. But I can't lie to my people."

" Not saying the truth is also a form of lying..." Kyra said and turned to face the Priestess, smiling. Both Shandris and Tyrande kept their composure, not answering to the provocation.

"What are my...other options?" The warrior asked carefully

Tyrande sighted.

"This is the only one."

Kyra let the words sink in to her being. They hurt. But she brought her chin up, and played her part.

"Very well, High Priestess, I will think of something." She quickly bowed and hurried to exit the room.

"Please think about it until next week."

The words made her stop for a brief moment. She clenched her fists close to her sides, and with a mumbled "Yes", stormed out of the room.


	11. 11

Kyra punched open the door of her house and stormed into the kitchen. The door hit the wall, and bounced back halfway, slowing it's momentum as it was sure to stop halfway, emitting a raspy, old creak.

Kyra slowly turned her head towards the sound. The creaking was slowly subsiding, the old wooden door defying her wishes, and stopped halfway, seemingly suspended, serene. Kyra hissed, and in one swift motion closed the door. The loud bang reverberated through the room, small dust particles were floating, panicked from the impact.

She turned away from the door, more angry that when she entered, and started pacing mindlessly around the room, her hands clenched into fists. She was thinking, rethinking and replaying the Priestesses words in her head over and over again. " A grand gesture. A public one. A sacrifice...".

She grunted. She felt her forehead getting hot, and plopped into a chair, rubbing her temples, rocking her torso up and down. He hands found some strands of loose hair on her scalp and started pulling them, mindlessly. She felt waves and waves of heat enveloping her. Anger started to bubble up inside her chest, making it's way to her throat, forming a painful lump there. " A grand gesture. A public one. A sacrifice..."...."A sacrifice..." "A sacrifice..."

Her mind was empty. She had no solution. She frowned, commanding her brain to invent something, but there was nothing .Only anger resided there, resentment, nothing useful, nothing to grab on... She pulled a strand of her hair and started to play with it between her fingers, all while her body was rocking back and forth.

She shook her head and sighted in frustration. Her sigh sounded more like a whimper this time.

She expected somehow that hitting Maiev before will bring relief, but it did not.

She hoped that she will find answers, that Tyrande was going to solve their conflict somehow.

But, on the other hand Tyrande seemed to be on Maiev side. Even though she was a traitor, even though she let her comrades to die for a quest that was actually an obsession.

And things just did not make sense...No matter how hard she tried to understand, they just did not make any sense.

" A grand gesture. A public one. A sacrifice..."...."A sacrifice..." "A sacrifice..." Slowly, tears started to burn her eyes, and she shut her eyelids, pulling her hair harder, shaking her head, trying to stop the unavoidable stream of sadness.

She grunted, and tensing her arms, smashed her fists on the table in frustration.

The loud bang reverberated in the empty house. The sun rays from the window were lighting small dust particles that rose from the table, flying up. The light was casting a warm color on her clenched fists. She opened her eyes, and looked at her gloved hands.

A small white strand with blood on it was resting between her fingers. She did not even realize nor did it hurt when she pulled it. Then she noticed something that made her eyebrows lift and her jaw to drop slightly.

The metallic gloves had scratches from her fight with Maiev. She noticed that the metal was shiny, beautifully crafted, but the scratches were stretching from her knuckles almost to her wrist, like a knife tear in a beautiful painting...And it dawned on her.

They were not marks of a battle. They were memories of a fight that changed nothing. A fight born by rage, anger, frustration, resentment . A fight born and bred by those crawling monsters from a wounded soul that would never be satiated until their host dies.

She carefully removed her gloves, and looked at her bare hands.

Her knuckles were bloody, the skin was partially scratched, and apparently healing. She extended her fingers. The skin stretched and the small wounds stung. That felt good. She closed her fist again. It hurt once more. It was more than a pleasant sensation. It was a sign that she was alive, in this moment at least. She did not remember hitting Maiev with her fists before, and that thought scarred her. She was so lost in her anger that she was not rational in that moment. It felt like a dream.

But the wounds were there. Small, bloody, close to forming scabs. But painfully real. And just like the scratches on the glove, they looked stupid on her purple hand. There were wounds that changed nothing.

She slowly closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. With every inhale, she felt her heartbeat slower, calmer, the lump in her throat becoming less and less noticeable, her mind clearer. She slowly opened her eyes and with relaxed gestures, removed her faceguard and placed it on the table. She turned her head towards the window and closed her eyes. She let the sun rays to caress her face and for the first time in many years she did not hate the sensation.

And in that very second she knew.

She knew what to do, how to do it and when, the thought slowly dawning on her at amazing speed, and Kyra realized that she will remember this second for the rest of her life. As this was the moment when she tasted a second of peace with herself.

She opened her eyes and smiled. She felt that moment of peace warming her heart, bringing that relief that she expected to get from punching Maiev. She knew that her anger could not be satiated, not like this.

She rose up, and slowly ascended on the stairs towards her bedroom.

Once there, with gestures born out of habit she removed her armor, letting it rest on the ground. She opened the door to her closet, and started to look for something.

On a hanger, in the back of the closed, was a long, green silk dress.

She pulled the robe with shaking hands, and looked at it.

The dress was one designed for festivities, and she never got the chance to wear it. To her luck, it preserved itself perfectly. The fabric felt soft to her fingers , strange to her callous hands, used to being gloved in harsh material. It had small golden branches sown in a semicircle around the neckline and at the waist. She looked in the mirror, holding the dress close to her chest. It was barely passing her ankles, so the length was perfect for her taste. The color was not too strong, so she could easily blend in to the crowd at the Midsummer Festival.

"It's time for a change" she smiled to her reflection in the mirror.


	12. Chapter 12

The sun was his enemy that day. The heat was burning his skin, sending mercilessly wave after wave to whip at his exposed skin. The wound on his back hurt the most, as his armor stuck to it, dried blood and sweat mixing in a nasty smelling, foul concoction. He knew it's going to be painful to remove his armor, but shielding his wounds from the burning sun was the best decision for now. He had no more healing potions, and very little water. He had to be careful and calculated about using it.

He walked slowly, dragging his feet after himself. They never felt so heavy. The sweat from his body formed a shiny cover on his blue skin, and small drops were stinging his eyes. He wiped it with a shaking hand, but to no avail. A new stream of salty liquid soon took it's place, and he grunted. He could feel that some of his wounds started to smell, as they were not closing. This could attract predators very quick, so he had to move fast.

His regeneration ability was no use to him. He concluded that the spell that the cultist used to bore in his mind and soul might have interfered with the laws of nature, forcing his body in to a permanent decaying state. Traces of the foul hex were still residing in his body, he could feel it. Something unnatural was happening to him, painful, unavoidable... He dreaded it with his entire being. The more he rejected it, the more it was causing him pain.

The heat was getting more and more unbearable, it felt like a hot cape was draped around his shoulders at all times. His breathing became ragged and warm as he was trying to advance, step by step, calculated, careful on the dusty road. Each inhale was becoming shorter and each exhale sounded more and more like a shiver. He shook his head, as he felt his throat close, and the air seemingly thinning.

He realized that his stealth was unstable, and despite his best effort and concentration it kept fading on and off. He frowned his forehead trying to slip in to the shadows once more, but the effort was fruitless. His vision started to get blurry, his head started spinning, and he stumbled a couple of steps from side to side trying to regain his balance.

His right hand found the trunk of a tree and he used it for support, as nausea overwhelmed him. The shade that the overgrown sapling provided brought a momentary relief, the coolness of it contrasting pleasantly with the scorching of the sun.

His knees gave up, and he collapsed on the ground, hugging the bark, full frame leaning on it, resting his forehead on it's coarse surface. His breathing became erratic and sounded exhausted. He turned his face away from the tree, and sat with his back propped on the harsh wood. He tried to control his breathing, the wheezing hum of it coming from his chest sounded almost calming. He slowly started to feel drowsy, and unbeknown to him his eyelids began to close ever so gently.

He quickly opened his eyes, a flare of fear passing on his features. He shook his head, and quickly got up.

A shot of pain in his temples made him grunt, and he gritted his teeth. He lowered his gaze, as the road seemed to dance in front of his eyes, and with a loud growl, continued to walk, despite the dizziness that started to blur his vision.

Roh'khin knew he might not survive this time. His head was thumping, and the Horde outpost seemed nowhere in sight. The stealth was useless at this point, as he could not concentrate to keep it on. He could be an easy target for the large beasts that were populating the area, and , Loa forbid, some Alliance opportunist. 

"Damn ya' Stonetalon... Damn ya'..." he muttered to himself "Dey say this be sacred site..." he added mockingly " This be a more fancy Barrens, nothin' more...With larger basilisks... And goblins that are nowhere ta be seen when ya' need them..." he shook his head.

He felt his sanity slipping away, as wave after wave of what it seemed like cold and hot flushes were traveling along his limbs. The Troll started to shiver, but continued to walk, as he very well knew – if he stopped, it will mean his death. And Loa be damned, it will not be today.

He looked around, and to his horror did not recognize the place. He knew for sure that he followed the road that would lead him to the Horde base...But he could've been walking in any direction now. He did not know which was the right direction.

He was lost.

His eyes widened in horror. A tiny voice in his mind, still held a ounce of sanity and was whispering to him that he was walking on the right path. But there was another voice, louder, more convincing, as that second voice was screaming in his mind that he was lost.

"Stop it!" he mumbled to himself, and cupped his temples with his hands..."Stop that..." he whispered, and he started, unbeknown to himself to stumble, zigzagging on the old road. 

All of the sudden, he felt his knees weaken, and a strange tingling sensation spread through his arms and forehead.

"No...no no no no..."he mumbled again, gritting his teeth.

A new layer of sweat formed on his skin, as his legs were starting to become numb. He groaned, as he felt himself collapsing on the dirty road, without any resistance. He stumbled a couple of steps, trying to regain control, waving his hands in front of himself, trying to find something to grab on.

But there was nothing to hold on to. He collapsed on his side with a loud thump, arms and legs limp spread in the dirt, his large blue frame covering half of the old road.

Blood was slowly trickling from his open mouth, forming a small dark pool on the ground, mixing with the dust below. If it was not for his loud breathing, one may very well assume he was dead.

He tried to get up, planting his large hands on the ground. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead from the effort, but with a loud grunt he manage to get on all fours. In that position, cough overwhelmed him, as more blood was getting in his airways. He spat the red liquid, and inhaled greedily.

A low hiss on his left made his ears twitch.

" _Basilisk...Damn ya' Stonetalon, ya' Loa forsaken place..."_ he thought to himself

He slowly turned his head towards the sound and saw the frame of a creature hiding in the bushes. He could distinctly tell it's features, the scaly skin covering his body, the grin of it's large toothy mouth. But it was not approaching. Not yet.

The beast sensed the smell of death in the air. It was waiting for it to happen. It knew that it did not stand a chance if the Troll was alive, so it waited to feast on his corpse. It's reptile eyes darted slowly from side to side, waiting for the rogue to give his final breath.

Roh'khin grinned. It will not give the creature this pleasure. He tensed his body and met the creature's hungry look. The basilisk hissed menacingly, and shifted ever so slightly closer, but not too close. The Troll slowly moved to a crouching stance, his eyes never leaving the creature. His right hand was numb, but his left hand was still functioning. He slowly reached for the hilt of one of his dagger.

He knew that this fight would be a deathmatch, and he inhaled, drawing his weapon, waiting for the opponent to make the first move. He will not die mauled by a filthy beast. He'd rather succumb to his injuries.

He inhaled and tensed once more.

All of the sudden, the creature's eyes darted from side to side, and instead of attacking, the basilisk hissed, and started to slowly retreat. The Troll starred at it, confused. The reptile snapped open his mouth, turned away and started to run towards the hills, in the opposite direction from the rogue.

He followed the creature with his gaze until it faded in the distance. Something has startled it, and it was not him. He smelled of death, he was not a threat. He removed his hand from the weapon, and exhaled in relief.

He froze mid breath.

His ears twitched again. He leaned with his ear on the dusty road, and touched the ground softly. He had to be sure. His blue fingers caressed the ground ever so lightly.

There it was. A soft, almost imperceptible ground shake. Small dust particles, invisible to the untrained eye were jumping rhythmically, up and down on the old dirty road. He looked up, his gaze concerned.

This sound scared the creature away. It was not willing to gamble it's life. This could mean his salvation. Or his doom.

He prayed that it was real and that his fevered mind was not playing nasty tricks on him. So he shook his head, exhaled, and touched the dirt one more time.

And he felt it again, closer this time. And clearer.

There was no doubt.

A rush of adrenaline made his vision clear for a split second, and his mind became lucid. He focused, and to his surprise, managed to get in to stealth. He summoned every ounce of strength that he had, and got up. His legs felt weak, but they could carry him for a while. He took a quick look around for a place to hide, or escape if the need will arise. He saw the bush where the creature hid before, took a few shaky steps to the side of the road towards the plant, and crouched behind it.

He felt his heart pumping loud, like it was ready to break his chest open. His breath was ragged and hot and a light shake was controlling his body. He tensed, and focused his gaze in the distance, summoning every ounce on strength he had left in his mauled body.

A light vibration on his chest. seemingly in sync with his heartbeats, made him jump slightly, and he looked at the source of it. He opened his mouth in awe as he saw the light vial that contained half of his soul slowly humming. It sounded like music and a small cry at the same time. He cupped it in his blue hand, and his it in his shirt. Close to the skin, the vial was burning, trying to perforate the ribcage and reunite with the rest of it, be whole again.

"Have patience...It will be ovah soon... I promise..."

The humming seemed to slowly die down, much to his surprise. He sighted in relief

In that moment, the thumping in the distance became louder, a sign that whoever was the source of it was closer now.

Thomp –thomp...Thomp –thomp...Thomp-thomp...Tribal, precise, heavy, alien to this deserted and silent place.

The Troll felt his head spin again, but he tried his best to keep his gaze focused. He will not succumb to this feeling, not when he was so close.

"Please don' be an Elekk..." he thought to himself .

The heat wave was making the distance seem more blurry, and it felt like he was holding his breath for a couple of seconds. Until...

A dust cloud arose in the distance, on the road, and the thumping became louder and clearer. And he was sure this time. A large mount was making the sound, his steps were too trained and too precise to be a wild animal . And it was on the main road, which meant it knew the paths.

He squinted his eyes, in order to distinguish the race and faction of the rider. The sun reflected on some metal that seemed to be the armor. He grunted in frustration and tried to see once more the face of the rider.

He saw a big set of horns, peacefully piercing the sky, adorned with feathers and baubles. Never in his life he felt more happy to see someone so shiny.

A Tauren.

He grinned . Soon the rider and the mount were close enough for him to see the majestic Kodo that was happily thumping on the road, sending dust clouds in all directions. His head started to spin again...

The stealth faded, as it was impossible for him to hold it any longer, so he crawled from his hiding place, and stood tall in the middle of the road. He shot his hands in the air, and he realized, stunned that no sound came out of it. He was unable to speak. He felt his mouth dry...His throat was closing, and he coughed again, suffocating. Small streams of blood were trickling down his chin, forcing him to release a guttural, gurgling, unnatural sound

He inhaled greedily, and shot his hands in the air in a desperate last gesture, as to attract the rider's attention. The rider was closer now, the Troll could see the plate armor, his face...

The rider was sleeping.

Roh'khin's eyes went wide in horror.

The Tauren was sleeping peacefully on top of his mount, the Kodo carrying his tired master on a known path.

The Troll realized that his only chance of surviving could simply pass right next to him, so he tensed his body once more. Shots of pain were biting at his flesh from different places, wounds new and old were making themselves known in this moment, his dizziness becoming close to nausea. It seemed like the air was thinner, as he was gasping more and more for it.

" _Help...me...you...bull..."_ He thought, as the Kodo got close to him.

The animal looked at the Troll with his gentle eyes, and started to make a semicircle around it, as to avoid the obstacle. After all, his mission was to help it's master get home safely.

In that moment, the Troll did something that even took him by surprise. He jumped on top of the Kodo, grasping with his weak arms at the saddle in which the Tauren was peacefully sleeping. He struggled to keep his grip, his arms bulging from the effort.

The surprised animal started to move from side to side, low rumbling from his scared bleating resonating in his giant body, trying to get the intruder off. The rogue's feet were dragged through the dirt, back and forth, as he could not muster the strength to lift his entire body on the saddle, no matter how hard he tried. The breathing became harder, and he felt his weakness slipping through the remaining drops of adrenaline. But he knew, if he gave up he would die. So the Troll kept his grip strong, grunting and cursing, his knuckles turning white, his nails digging deep into the leather of the saddle, as his body was mercilessly thrown from side to side.

All of the sudden, the Tauren's eyes opened, and for a split second, he looked confused at what the source of this disturbance might be, and tried to calm his animal, with soothing words in a half asleep voice.

The Troll saw his opening, and swinging one hand, grabbed the Tauren by his arm, his bloodied nails gripping at the rider's furry limb. And under the Tauren's shocked look, using his last bit of strength, uttered with his red painted mouth:

"Help...Me..."

He felt his grip weaker, and a new rush of heat overwhelmed him. Darkness came suddenly, and with one last hungry breath, it claimed him


	13. 13

The tall, dark haired Forsaken priestess moved fast through the gathered crowd, her robe getting tangled in the weeds as she walked, which she kept pulling up absently every time. She made her way with her white staff, hitting - seemingly by mistake - everyone that was unfortunate to be in her way.

"Move... Move..." she kept whispering in her hoarse voice, but no one seemed to listen.

"Animals..." she mumbled to herself and proceed to wave her staff in front of her, clearing her path by force, hitting heads, shoulders, arms and backs of the gathered crowd, drawing surprised gasps and puffs of the bystanders. Regardless, a path seemed to clear in front of her.

The entrance of the tent was blocked by a tall Tauren warrior, clad in armor from head to toe. He seemed as surprised as she was at the ruckus he had created. His huge, kind eyes were looking around confused, as he did not understand the anger of the crowd.

"He is infected! I can smell the foul stench of death from here!" a raspy, angry voice rose from the back of the crowd. The source of the voice, a strong built orc shaman was making her way hastily to the tent. 

" It's foul magic, it can spread to all of us, just like the plague did!" she added while pacing towards the front of the gathering, her eyes darting from side to side, waiting for the results of her words. A a low murmur of approval from the angry crowd was slowly becoming louder, and she proudly smiled. The Tauren shook his head.

"He is not a threat to us..." His deep voice rumbled towards the disgruntled mob

"Hah!" The orc smirked " How can you tell? "

"I just know." The Tauren said in a low voice.

The orc female hissed, getting closer. She finally advanced to the front of the crowd, facing the tall warrior. She planted her legs firmly on the ground, just few feet away from the Tauren, her defiant posture signaling an unavoidable confrontation. She smirked and added for all the gathered to hear.

"You can't sense this things." She added and the crowd approved with a low hum, much to her pleasure.

" You are as sensitive as a boot!You are a warrior!" she uttered with disgust. Slowly she took another careful step towards the tent entrance, casually brushing against the warrior's frame while trying to enter.

The Tauren gaze darkened, his nostrils flared in ager momentarily, and he blocked the female path with his arm much to her surprise. His height sent a giant shadow over the orc frame, and the tension from their encounter was sending ripples through the angry crowd.

"I may not sense corruption, but I can sense foolishness. And right now my gut is telling me there is some foolishness around. I'll hate to swing my axe now, I just cleaned it." His booming voice made the loud crowd to get silent for a split second.His eyes narrowed and he added in a low, but commanding tone :

" Stay put, Nazira."

Hearing her name spoken, the female clicked her tongue mockingly and with one swift move pushed her staff against the warrior's arm. She smirked once more.

"As you wish then..." she hissed and her lips started to chant a summoning spell no doubt for a totem. The warrior's eyes became red in a split second, left hand slowly rose, gripping the hilt of his axe strapped on his back, all this while keeping his arm firmly planted on the tent entrance. He inhaled, prepared to strike.

"As you want, Nazira..."

"Stop, you buffoons!"

The Forsaken woman's voice echoed through the crowd, making both of them stop momentarily and look in the direction of the sound. The angry crowd seemed to gasp in unison, taken by surprise.

The priestess was standing slightly hunched in front of the crowd, her left hand gripping her staff, her right hand clasping at her robe, an angry look adorning her bony features. Her skeletal fingers danced impatiently on the robe fabric, a clear sign of annoyance and lack of tolerance towards unnecessary conflict. She sighted, shaking her head and started to limp towards the pair.

"Animals! " she muttered making her way towards the tent "Simply beasts, hungry for blood...Food, sleep, mate, fight, what else is there?"

The shaman, visibly surprised, turned her whole frame towards the priestess, her eyes darting from side to side once more, but this time for a solution. In an instant she quickly took a step back and bowed her head in front of the woman.

"Priestess Amira, there is a troll in the tent...I sensed a touch of necromancy on him..."

"Oh, spare me! You have no idea what you are saying, uttering big words while knowing nothing! Animals...." The Priestess mumbled and when the orc tried to speak, she simply waved her hand dismissively towards the shaman. 

The orc took a step to the side instinctively, and the Forsaken woman saw it. She half-smiled with her crooked mouth and with calculated steps approached the orc. The Priestess approached the visibly scared pale green face, her own inches from the shaman's.

"Move..." She whispered.

Her coarse voice, despite the low volume of it sounded so commanding, that he orc quickly took a couple of stumbling steps back and bowed her head. The Forsaken woman smiled again, and turned her head towards the crowd.

"You can go now, the show is over."

The gathered folk seemed confused by her commanding tone. Their "leader", the orc female seemed to be in the wrong, and the shift of power towards the Priestess made them disoriented.

" Shoo! " she added, visibly annoyed " Go away! Go about your day, this does not concern you!" she waved her hands towards the gathered crowd, but they seemed to look towards eachother, as no one seemed to dare to be the first to leave. Confused glances danced from one another to the Orc female that rallied them before.

The Priestess rolled her eyes, as much as a Forsaken could as the crowd voices rose in protest .She exhaled, and added in a steady tone:

"This is a direct order from Lady Sylvanas, and I am thinking none of you wants to attract her wrath."

The murmur fell silent, like an invisible shiver ran through countless spines. A low voice from the back of the crowd was heard mumbling, barely audible:

"She is not the Warchief..."

The Forsaken Priestess sighted.

"Oh she isn't" she smiled, locking her eyes with the source of the voice. " But she never forgets."

The shaman female stepped forward and seeing and opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of the priestess, took a stance.

"Disperse!" the shaman yelled, waving her hands towards the crowd. "Let's get the priestess some space! Nothing to see here"

The crowd, with a low and displeased hum started to slowly scatter in confusion. Seeing this, the orc female turned towards the Priestess once more and bowed her head, anxious to get as far from the tent as possible.

"I am sorry, Priestess Amira, I will be on my way, I did not..."

"No, no, no" the Priestess interrupted her with the familiar, bored dismissive hand waving.

" What do you think you are, shaman? A revolutionary perhaps? Gathering horde members for your own crusade? Can't you stand your ground on your own?"

"I am sorry, I sensed something foul about the..."

"Spare me the details! You're senses mean nothing! And don't think you will get off that easy!You made this mess, you clean it up. Stay here, guard the entrance and if anyone tries to enter the tent, well...make sure they don't. "

The shaman quickly shook her head in agreement.

"But..." the Priestess gaze darkened "If I sense you eavesdropping, even just a whif of it, you could very well be one of the Putress experiments tomorrow."

The Shaman shook her head once more.

"I am sorry, I did not intend... I could help cure whatever it's in that tent..."

"Do you think I need it?" the Priestess cold tone made her freeze on the spot.

The stunned orc tried to say something , but the words got stuck in her throat, and to her own surprise she simply nodded in agreement once more.

"Good." Amira turned on her heels and faced the entrance to the tents. As she passed through the entrance, she quickly whispered

" Warrior, you come with me. You will be handsomely rewarded."

The Tauren shot a quick surprised glance at the rushing healer. For a brief moment he paced on his hoofs, taken aback by the low voiced order. But he sensed the importance in the tone. He quickly nodded, shooting an angry glance at the dumbfounded shaman, and soon after was swift to follow the Forsaken woman.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ************************************************************  
> Author's note
> 
> Hi there!
> 
> First of all, thank you for reading this, and for leaving reviews I am immensely grateful!
> 
> Secondly, I took the liberty in this chapter to use some of World of Warcraft official languages and phrases - officially confirmed - in a new context.
> 
> So, without further ado, let's get in to it! Have a nice read:)
> 
> Author out.  
> ************************************************************

* * *

* * *

* * *

**"** Oh, you fool..." Amira worried exhale filled the space as soon as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the small tent.

The scene that unraveled before their eyes took them both aback.

The Troll was lying on a rug on the ground, his body sprawled unnaturally, covered in open wounds and beads of sweat. A large bowl with a dirty cloth and murky water was laying beside him, a sign that someone was kind enough to cleanse his wounds. But that was not nearly enough, as the stench of decaying flesh and dried blood was filling the room.

The Forsaken woman, wasting no time rushed to the wounded rogue, and kneeled before his body, and with a swift motion her bony hands started hovering over his blue frame, eyes closed. She slowly chanted a commonly used healing spell, and a small light flickered from the tip of her fingers to the wounded frame before her. She frowned. The troll skin started to form beads of sweat, highlighting bruises and cuts of all shapes and sizes. He groaned in pain for a split second, without opening his eyes, and then succumbed to his fever sleep. A large black gash on his forehead became visible, dark veins popping around it. It looked like the wound was a shade of some unknown worm, squirming, trying to rip the skin open. It looked alive. The healer paused her hands over his forehead, chanting louder, pressing her palms to his wound. She gasped loudly.

A slightly visible heat wave exploded unexpectedly from the troll body, sending the surprised Forsaken woman flying through the air towards the entrance, slamming in to the unsuspecting Tauren's chest, drawing a muffled growl from him.

The impact took the warrior by surprise, but he instinctively held his stance, grabbing at the last moment the priestess before she could hit the ground. His swift reaction prevented her hitting the floor head first, for which she was, undoubtedly grateful, given the circumstances. He slowly positioned the woman on the ground in front of him, and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What... was ...that?" he asked in a cold tone. He did not sound angry. He sounded concerned.

The woman arranged her robe and locked her eyes with the Taureen. She shook her head and sighted audibly. She whispered in a low, trembling voice:

"I lied before. Sylvanas has nothing to do with this."

The Tauren rolled his eyes and his nostrils flared. This woman was playing some strange games. Outside she was firm, bored, dominant, almost like a troop commander that will gladly sacrifice his own soldiers. But now she seemed scared, anxious and even kind. Realizing that, he understood the importance of her task, of healing this dying rogue. It must be really important for her to go to such great lengths of deception.

"Go on..." he commanded

"I will pay ." The woman added hastily " Three thousand gold coins, for your time, help and discretion"

She quickly turned around and started rummaging through her backpack. From there, with rushed moves she revealed a set of potions and scrolls, which she unceremoniously spread on the ground. Her hands were shaking while aligning the healing elixirs and potions , and she hastily motioned for the Tauren to come closer. She grabbed a hefty pouch and held in out towards the warrior in her outstretched hand.

"There. You can count them if you want."

The Taureen did not move, his gaze piercing.

The Priestess sighted.

"I was affiliated with the Argent Crusade. Well, before all this..." she pointed towards her frame, alluding to the fact that she was now Forsaken.

"I know necromancy, demonic magic, you name it – I've seen it. No one should endure this unnatural, twisted, spells. This man saved my life. His soul was split in two because of it. I am the only one that can put it back together. But it is not easy, as you saw before. That's why I need your help." The woman added in a low tone.

The tired sound of her voice made the Taureen frown. He saw the wound that was resting on the sick troll forehead for the first time. From the looks of it, it seemed to be spreading. If not for the enchants that were protecting the wearer, Roh'khin's body would have succumbed to his sickness long ago.. He seemed lifeless, and only the small vial that was resting on his chest was emitting a slow but energetic hum. One might think that the small bottle was the only thing keeping his spirit alive.

The rogue seemed to be breathing though. Slow, heavy, uneven but breathing nonetheless. But despite that, it was more than obvious that Roh'khin was clearly dying. Time was slipping fast.

The Tauren took one glance at the Priestess, and nodded in agreement, motioning for her to hide the gold pouch.

"You...don't want the money?" the Priestess asked dumbfounded.

The warrior approached and his nose wrinkled at the stench of the dying Troll. He hunched towards the healer, while covering his nose.

His brown gentle eyes darted from the Priestess to the Troll. His big hand pointed towards the vial resting around the rogue's neck.

" _This_ called for me. Asked for my help. Louder than you or he did."

The woman looked at the vial that was slowly humming on the Troll's chest, confused.

"That means...Oh, this is good... " That the Priestess clasped her hands together, a ray of hope lighting her features.

She quickly started to pick vials and scrolls from the ground, in a hurry, and arranging them in an order of some sorts.

"Shall we begin then?" she asked once more

The Tauren simply nodded towards the healer.

" Very well. I need you to give me the vial or scroll that I ask for, when I ask for it. They have different colors, so it should not be very difficult"

She inhaled and whispered " If – and believe me, it might happen – I faint or lose touch with this reality, get me back. Hit me if you have to. But keep me awake. Here" she handed him a green phial "If I lose consciousness, make me drink this, pour it down my throat if you have to. You are strong, I can guarantee you can overpower whatever might posses me."

The Tauren's gaze darkened once more.

"Posess?" he asked in a careful tone.

"It might happen. Along with other things... As you saw before..." The priestess said in a slightly annoyed tone. She sighted, and added in a softer voice " Can you see the difference between real and illusion?"

The Tauren looked confused at the strange question, and simply nodded in agreement once more, took the green vial and kneeled next to the priestess.

Seeing that the warrior agreed, he Forsaken woman let out a small, almost inaudible exhale of relief.

She quickly turned towards the Troll and rolled her white robe sleeves, preparing for another spell.

"What is your name, warrior?" she asked while closing her eyes.

"Dagotha" the Tauren said in a low tone.

"Dagotha..." she repeated "Good to know. You know mine. Amira. I ask you to call me by my name every time you feel that I am not in my body. And make sure I come back every time."

The Tauren eyes went wide, but before he could ask anything, Amira started chanting a spell unlike any he had heard before. It sounded like Gutterspeak, Common and Demonic at the same time. He gripped the vial she has given him before, and prepared himself if need be for his assistance.

" Be ready for anything."

The Tauren felt shivers running down his spine, a chill of dread slowly filling the room. And as a warrior, all his instincts urged him to prepare for a fight. But the enemy was nowhere to be seen, and that made the seasoned soldier feel confused. He felt his nails digging into his palms, his eyes never leaving the Priestess frame. He was prepared for her body to be thrown around once more.

But nothing prepared him for what followed.

The Priestess breath became more and more ragged, sweat started to cover her forehead. Her jaw was clenched, and small raspy exhales filled the room. The faint glow from her hands started to change its hue to a more orange, rich tone as her chants became louder.

The Troll body started to slowly shiver, shake, as if cold was piercing his very being, through every pore. A violet glow started to rise from the rogue. In a split of a second, ropes and ropes of dark colored foul smelling smoke started enveloping the Priestess's neck, arms and chest, locking her in one place, suffocating her. She tried to pull out, but to no avail. The smoke strings invaded her nostrils, eyes and mouth.

Without losing momentum, the Tauren swiftly grabbed her shoulders, trying to help her distance herself from the source of the dark magic, pulling with all his strength her frail body away from the Troll. He grit his teeth, as despite his impressive strength he could not move her, as if and invisible link was bonding those two together. The woman started to suffocate, as she was gasping for air more and more. Whispers in an unknown language filled their ears, maddening their mind. The Troll's body started to shake violently, convulsively, half hovering over the floor.

The Tauren propped his hooves on the ground, one hand grabbing the woman's waist, the other one hugging her shoulders all around as to not break her in two, and pulled away from the Troll. He felt a vein in his eye pop from the effort, his vision becoming red, but he did not give up. He gritted his teeth once more, as whispers were slowly enveloping his mind, and with a loud roar fell onto his back, hitting the floor with a loud thud.

He felt the foul link broken and the whispers more and more quiet now, dissipating slowly as he tried to get up to regain his composure. The Troll's body calmed his convulsions and he seemed to go back to his lifeless sleep. He shook his head and looked at the woman in his arms. She was unconscious, her head dangling over his arm, her mouth half open. He quickly opened the cork of the green vial with his teeth, and spat it on the ground. He lifted her head up and poured the content of the liquid down her throat, unceremoniously. The woman's eyes shot open, and she started violently coughing, convulsing in his arms, until she fell on ground on all fours. She took a deep breath, and grabbed the warrior's arm with a firm hand.

"Amira?" he asked cautiously

"Yes...Who would have thought that brute force might overpower a spell remnant..." she shook her head.

"The...yellow...scroll...read...it...out loud..." she panted, crawling on the floor towards the Troll's body. Once there, she planted her knees firmly on the ground, same as before, her shaky hands covering the rogue's wound . A small light emanated from the tip of her fingers, sending a warm glow onto the blue skin of the wounded.

The Tauren, visibly shaken, moved towards the pile of objects, searching for the said scroll. After rummaging for a couple of second, he saw the small golden parchment and grabbed from the ground. The light color of it was easy to miss, as the light of the day was quickly vanishing.

He opened and cleared his throat. To his surprise, it was written in an unknown language. He was about to tell the priestess that he did not comprehend, but in that very moment the copper written text started to rearrange itself by its own will. The warrior's eyes went wide as the unknown paragraphs from before became clear verses in Taur - ahe.

"Read it out loud...But be firm. Any hesitation might kill us both." the Priestess added in a raspy voice, as she closed her eyes.

The Tauren shuddered as chills ran down his spine. He exhaled loudly, and squinted his eyes. He summoned all the courage he could muster in that moment, and cleared his throat once more. In a low voice, he started to read the scroll.

" Rah eche towa ishamuhale nahe owa pawene. Nechi ich towateke ki hale chi. Pawene ichnee Yeena'e ,Washte Pawnes, Rah An'she ich Mu'sha, Towa ich Shamuha owakeri po Arikara Washte ich Aki, Theia-shoush ahmen" "[1]

The glow from the healer's hands grew warmer, the color of it becoming white, close to the sun rays hue. Small flickers of silvery shards of the spell were dancing over the rogue's body, making his breathing even, calmer. The Priestess seemed in control this expression on her face was serene, but this did not make the warrior comfortable. He still felt an unseen, dark, ominous presence looming over their very souls. His instincts urged him to flee, as every part of his body screamed that he could not match the invisible opponent's strength. Not for a second did his eyes leave the healer's frame.

And then he saw it.

From the troll forehead, a spear shaped dark smoke string arose, pointing towards the ceiling. The Tauren gripped the hilt of his weapon, feet in a steady battle stance, breathing even, calculated.

The Priestess seemed undisturbed by the occurrence, continuing mending and dancing with her supple fingers over the troll's body. Suddenly she stopped, her head turning towards the Tauren, her eyes wide in horror.

"Dagotha...It's not me..." she whispered through clenched teeth, as the smoke spear pierced her body, through her ribcage, to the other side. A pained scream erupted from her lungs, and she felt her knees give up. Blood was slowly dripping on the floor form her wound, and the warrior rushed towards her .

Before he could make a step, an invisible hand gripped his throat, pulling him back. He gasped. He felt a fire shackle enveloping around his chest, claws digging into his skin, fingers crushing his throat, nails raking his temples. With great effort he turned his head towards the Priestess, and to his horror she was...smiling. The smoke spear was sticking from her chest, blood was staining her pristine garment, pooling on the ground, but she did not seem to feel anything. She slowly approached the warrior, and tapped her bony finger on his nose.

"A...mi...ra..." the warrior uttered in a low, pained voice

The Priestess smiled once more

" _Azhir uval nutarus_..."[2] she muttered in a strange, dark, low voice, her mouth twisting unnaturally. She approached, and got close to his face, smiling. Blood was pouring from her mouth, staining her yellow teeth. Nonetheless she seemed to grin endlessly.

" _Achor she-ki_![3]" she commanded with the same low, eerie voice.

In that second, the warrior felt his left arm twist and pain erupted from the limb. He screamed, gritting his teeth, and that made the Priestess giggle. His breathing became erratic, but he tried to control it. Tears formed in the corner of his gentle eyes, as his face was contorted in a grimace. He felt like someone or something has reached inside his arm and was tugging at his bone, trying to break it from within. But as the invisible enemy was preoccupied with his limb, the grip on his throat loosened for a second. As he still had his sanity left, so he screamed from the top of his lungs towards the Priestess:

"Amira! Fight!"

The grip on his throat became stronger, making him unable to breath properly. His words seem to have no effect on the healer, she simply gestured towards an invisible friends. He felt his tongue swell inside his mouth, his eyes rolling back into his sockets, a warm numbing sensation enveloping his body. He gritted his teeth, and with his last ounce of remaining strength whispered:

"Amira... Pawene ichnee pawene..."[4]

He fell on the ground, his head connecting painfully with it. He gasped for air, a shaking hand checking his neck. Painful lumps slowly swelling under his skin were a clear sign that something tried to kill him. His arm hurt, but it was not broken. He looked up, his vision blurry and saw the priestess stumbling around the room, screaming.

Without wasting any time, he crawled towards the pile of scrolls and elixirs and gripped a red vial, the one he recognized to be a healing potion. He opened it, and gulped half of it. The liquid felt good, and it seemed to soothe his pain for a second.

The Priestess screamed in demonic again, and collapsed on the ground .His quickly rose on his wobbly feet, and approached the disoriented healer, scooping her from the floor. The woman was bleeding from her torso, and was mumbling something in demonic. Her pale face was frozen in a pained grimace, eyes rolled up, blood pouring from her mouth. He gripped her frame even tighter, trying to steady her torment, and poured the rest of the red liquid down her throat.

The Priestess coughed, and slowly her eyes seemed to open. She blinked in shock when the first thing she saw when she opened them was the Tauren's face.

Dagotha swallowed audibly, and shook his head.

"Amira..." he whispered.

"Yes, Dagotha...Thank you..." she whispered in a tired tone.

"We were lucky you remembered that phrase..." she smiled

The Tauren smiled back, and pointed towards the troll. His head wound was gone, and he seemed to be breathing steadily. Some of the wounds from his body have closed, but he was still unconcious.

Amira tried to get up, but a shot of pain made her gasp. The warrior steadied her frame, and with careful motions helped her to get to the troll's body once more.

"It hurts..." she mumbled as she took her place, "But it's not life threatening. And I know I hurt you too... I am sorry" she added in a low voice "No matter what questions you have, I promise I will answer them after we are finished... One more step...Just one more. This time, the enemy will show itself . Be prepared."

She started hovering her hands over the Troll's body, the familiar light covering the rogue. This time the light was almost red, with occasional white and golden sparks deflecting from the blue skin. She started chanting a low voice, he volume increasing, as the light from her palms grew stronger.

"What was once broken, may the light bind it together. What was once a scar, the light will heal. What was once separated, may the light forge a new union" she uttered in a clear tone.

The Tauren witnessed with a surprised expression as the humming vial melted into the Troll's torso, becoming one with his body, a small glow framing him.

Roh'khin exhaled loudly, and tears started to stream from his closed eyes, his chest shaking with sobs. A glow emanated from his ribcage, caressing his entire body, from head to toe. The Troll smiled, as small tears continued to pour down his blue cheeks, and seemed to fall into a healthy sleep.

The warrior felt sympathy for the rogue. After all, he was a fellow soldier, wounded by dark, unnatural magic. He recognized many of the old scars the rogue bore, as he had similar ones.

"Got you!" The Priestess exclaimed, startling the warrior. He looked at her, and to his horror she had a small snake like smoke creature wrapped around her left wrist, a triumphant smile adorning her features. She seemed to hold it by its head, as the rest of it's weak body twisted and turned to break free, but to no avail. Amira looked at the warrior and whispered, a wide grin spread across her features:

"Prepare yourself..."

Dagotha noded, and gripped the hilt of his weapon.

The priestess brought the serpent to her arm length and whispered towards him:

" _Elas umanes azarathan rakas ibna_ "[5]

In a split second, the smoke creature was enveloped in white flames, twisting his worm like body to no avail, screeching loud, making the Priestess frown. The Taureen felt his eardrums pop from the sound, and he took a step back.

 _"Elas umanes azarathan rakas ibna!_ "The Priestess commanded louder

The snake like creature screamed even louder, the white flame burning his body, the sizzling flesh falling on the ground, piece by piece. The Tauren covered his ears, a strain of blood trickling down onto his neck.

 _"Elas ...umanes ...azarathan... rakas... ibna"_ Amira's voice echoed louder, cleared this time, covering the screeching of the creature.

The snake like smoke worm screamed for the last time, making the Tauren frown once more as the flames consumed the fiend's body, turning him into a dust pile on the floor, making the Tauren exhale in relief.

Silence.

Dagotha's hands slowly reached for his weapon, small hairs on his neck rising up, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

Amira smiled and brought both of her hands up, and in a low voice whispered eerily:

"Show yourself..."

Silence.

The warrior frowned and held his breath.

An angry scream from behind made Amira turn around. All she saw was a red flame flying towards her, and before she could duck from the spell very much to her surprise a brown furry frame blurred her vision.

The spell landed on Dagotha's chest, but he did not even flinch.

"Try harder." He rumbled towards the attacker in a low voice "...Nazira"

The Shaman barred her teeth and started chanting a spell. But before she could utter the first words, the Warrior charged towards her, and with his bare hands landed a fist right onto the orc's right cheek. A loud crack filled the room, and the shaman took one angry step towards the Tauren, and after moving a bit from side to side, collapsed on the ground.

The Priestess was taken aback by the unfolding, and her shock, pain and surprised mixed together and she simply...started to laugh.

"Too easy." The Tauren mumbled.

"No" Amira said, still laughing " She just stupid"

"Imagine..." she continued laughing, barely able to form a sentence, her tone higher than usual" Going through all this trouble ...Spells... Fiends...Possession...Just to be...Stopped by a...Punch...This might be the most stupid thing I have ever seen..." the Priestess sat on the ground, unable to stand as the cascades of laughter overwhelmed her. She tried to say something else, but she could not, as short chuckles filled the silence.

Dagotha smiled also, and joined in the laughter, his low voice rumbling through the room. He sat next to her, as he was also overwhelmed by the laughter.

"Ah..." The Priestess wiped the tears from her eyes " My ribs hurt... Check to see if she is alive, please..."

The Tauren rose up, still smiling, and got close to the shaman's body. He brought his hand close to her neck, and noded.

"Yes, but her heart is beating slowly"

"Good. " Amira brought her hand up, and golden shackles rose from the ground, imprisoning the orc. " She will sleep in her personal prison" she smiled at the Tauren.

A low mumble made them both look in the same direction. Towards the Troll. Amira quickly rose to her feet, and quickly got next to the rogue.

"Roh'khin..." she whispered, smiling at the rogue.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the priestess. His cracked lips formed the words : "Water..."

The Tauren quickly ran into a corner of the tent, and got his backpack .He approached the pair, and retrieved a flask of helped hold his head up, and Dagotha gently placed the container to the Troll's lips. After a couple of sips, Roh'khin muttered "Thank you", and let his head fall back on the blanket.

The Tauren put the flask his flask in his backpack and suddenly frowned.

"Strange..." he mumbled

"What?" asked Amira

"My fruits. I gathered them this morning. They are...moldy..."

The Priestess eyes went wide, and she quickly rose up to her feet, hurrying towards the entrance, flapping the tents door open, letting the sun invade the tent. An orc Peon was carrying some lumber, mumbling to himself.

"Hey!" Amira screamed, startling the worker " What day is today?"

"What?" The orc seemed confused, or deaf, or both.

"I asked what day is today!" The Priestess asked, visibly frustrated

"Oh. It's Tuesday. Work day! Work , work" the orc mumbled to himself as he walked away.

The Priestess heart sunk. She turned around, livid, towards the pair in the tent...

"It's...Tuesday..." she uttered in a low voice

Dagotha's eyes went wide, and he slowly rose up to his feet

"It was...Sunday..." The Tauren said in a confused tone

"We crossed tha otha side, man..." Roh'khin raspy voice echoed eeirly in the silence.

* * *

[1] _(Taur – ahe)_ Let this fire illuminate both our bodies and and patience be with strong as always. To those who herald the dawn, Spirit Biters, let the Sun and the Moon, The Fire and the Light, guide our vengeance. Spirit and soul, so it will be.

[2]( _demonic)_ Let this scar signify the first blow against the mortal world

[3] _(demonic)_ Feast, my Pet

[4] _(Taur – ahe)_ Remain strong as always

[5] _(demonic)_ They shall be consumed by the very flame they sought to control.


End file.
